Runcible Blog

Nachtwey's Story

Last year, James Nachtwey, after winning the TED prize, made a cryptic wish:

I’m working on a story that the world needs to know about. I wish for you to help me break it in a way that provides spectacular proof of the power of news photography in the digital age.



Now, he and his TED collaborators are set to reveal his photo story on October 3rd. I am sure Nachtwey's story will be as spectacular as he hopes. He's a role model for the kind of documentarian I wish I could be, and I'm excited to see what he has uncovered.

Spread the word, and check out Time magazine on Friday, as well.


In my nightmare last night, I was sitting in my apartment when I looked out the window and saw someone outside staring at me.  I felt uncomfortable but shrugged it off and left for work or something.  When I returned home, the staring guy and his girlfriend were in my apartment.  It seems my landlord had decided to rent out half of my place to another tenant (of course, my place isn't big enough for such a crazy idea).  The rest of the dream was about struggling to live with these unwanted, creepy people in a place that I used to think of as my own.  Unable to kick out the invaders, I felt powerless and frustrated at the situation.

It's no wonder I do not have roommates now.  In fact, the dream proves that I'm afraid of the possibility of having to live with strangers someday.  More broadly, my persistent fear lately is not being able to maintain enough financial independence to continue living on my own.  Considering the economic bust we're in and the dreams for my (certainly less lucrative) future, it's not an irrational fear, either.

hitting the road

Tomorrow morning I'll head out on my first solo road trip in five years. I'm heading to Minneapolis, eager to document the clash of ideologies outside the rich white dude convention. I learned a bit about underhanded police tactics four years ago and hope to avoid whatever tricks the St.Paul PD have ready to unleash.

Good night, and huzzah.

Into the Wild

(I had started to write a rather scathing review of Into the Wild a week or so ago, but my computer's battery died at some point before I hit save [why didn't I hit save earlier? I should know better]. Now, the forgettable review joins the forgettable movie somewhere in the rear of my brain. I do remember that the tone of the film felt way off from what it should've. It played like a montage of a kid's journey through the country, and I ultimately didn't care about the main character's fate because the one-dimensional acting lead me to believe that he had little to offer, emotionally — certainly less depth than I imagine the real-life Chris McCandless might've contained. I must be in the minority of people who didn't care for the film; I'm too snobbish in my appreciation for great cinematography. Into the Wild fell far short of the "beautiful film" mark, and it didn't help to have Eddie Vedder warbling on top of the film with faux-authenticity.
Oh, and I just remembered the scene where the main character breaks the fourth wall and touches the camera lens. WTF? Delete that scene, Sean Penn! Delete it!)

my winding wheel

Although I haven't had much to say lately, rest assured I've been a bundle of feelings. It just so happens that sometimes those feelings are neatly expressed by other people's lyrics. Ryan Adams nails the experience of longing that I've had tugging on my insides recently. I've certainly got a winding wheel in mind.

This is the best I can do at the moment:

Well nighttime let her through
Yeah I'm talking to you
I wanna see her
Precious little thing
With eyes that dance around
Without their clothes

So buy a pretty dress
Wear it out tonight
For anyone you think could out do me
Or better still
Be my winding wheel

Cause I feel just like a map
Without a single place to go of interest
And I'm further North than South
If I could shut my mouth
She'd probably like this

So buy a pretty dress
And wear it out tonight
For all the boys you think could out do me
Or better still
Be my winding wheel

Be my winding wheel

Well the children laugh and sing
A song that ushers in her driving rain
And I'm standing in the station
like some old record waiting on a train

So buy a pretty dress
Wear it out tonight
For anyone you think could out do me
Or better still
Be my winding wheel

Be my winding wheel