w a s t e . t i m e . n o w

I don’t have much time to waste these days, but thought I’d share this little gem.

There’s definitely going to be a brief hiatus here. It’s minus-20 in Ottawa, and things need done. Check back in December.

A few tips and reminders to help you get more done.

Mind maps are tag clouds done old school — a simple and accessible framework for naming, grouping and displaying links involving related ideas.

Mayomi is a web-based tool that uses Flash animation to provide a shell for creating and saving mind maps online. There are a few limitations — you can’t download your final project and printing is a bit dodgy, but Mayomi is excellent when you need space to order your thoughts and can’t find a piece of paper big enough.

Cmap Tools is a more robust application for more complex projects, but you’ll need to download and install the software (for Windows, Mac or Linux). Printing is a breeze, and you can also export maps into HTML, XML or create a JPEG of the image. There’s a link validation utility, a spell-checker and enough design options to create fresh styles for multiple maps. It’s even possible to collaborate with other users online.

Drawing on the same quirkiness that inspired Back To The Future II, some prankster at Forbes has done a thing so radical it will literally blow your mind. And by literally, I mean figuratively.

The E-Mail Time Capsule harnesses the enormous potential of the Information Superhighway to let you send email… to yourself… wait for it… in the future!

Enter your address, write a brief message, and choose when to receive a blast from the past. Then sit back and lose 1 to 20 years waiting for whatever dynamite wisdom you’ve just authored. I suggest doing lots to be proud of in the intervening time — or Future You will be pretty bummed Present You had this kind of time on your hands.

I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t piss-off Future Me, so I devised a flame mail campaign to continue harassing my enemies with regular messages long after I’m dead and buried.

I hate autumn and always have — it’s drafty, and totally boring. The one saving grace is getting to play all the music you own that somehow comes off a bit rich at other times of the year. That tiny silver lining isn’t enough to redeem the whole season, but I am trying to be a better sport about the whole thing.

Here are a few MP3s from Kim’s fall playlist, in recognition of this unseasonably sunny Monday. Just click the song title and follow the download link on the next page that appears. The third-best season is just around the corner…

Chet — The Cold Drank My Soul Away Into The Day
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds — I Let Love In
Dead Meadow — At Her Open Door
Wolf Parade — You Are A Runner And I Am My Father’s Son
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah — The Skin Of My Yellow Country Teeth
The New Pornographers — Mass Romantic

Terminal City est mort. Another independent paper bites the dust, and ours is fast becoming a city of rags. We all agree new kids on the block like Dose and 24-Hours are rubbish — but the Courier, West Ender and Georgia Strait are pretty irrelevant these days too. Would you miss any of them if they disappeared tomorrow?

Only Magazine stands out in this sea of mediocrity — if you’re not already a regular reader, you should be. I’m told it’s hard to get your hands on a copy in some neighbourhoods, but you can always find them online.

I’ve been wasting hella time at the Smoking Gun’s gallery of celebrity mugshots. Arresting Images has dozens of household names caught at moments in their life they’d probably rather forget. This is tawdry stuff, and I’m ashamed to enjoy it as much as I do.

Each jailroom image is accompanied by details of the arrest, but it would be fun if details of the excuse were also included. James Brown: nobody believes you were “rehearsing to play Ike Turner in a Broadway musical”.

I love magic and hate the circus, and enjoy all these shots of 19th Century posters promoting magicians and circus shows. My favourite is the little devil (or whatever) delivering this question to a psychic.