My new and highly-dubious weekly finance column.
By the late 80s, with no support from MTV or radio, the Big Four, with a fast-expanding second tier of like-minded acts worldwide, became the defining force in metal. Slayer released Reign in Blood, still regarded as one of the best metal albums of all time; Anthrax aligned themselves with the New York hardcore scene, and their members spawned further thrash outfits in Nuclear Assault and Stormtroopers of Death; Megadeth, formed by acrimoniously exiled Metallica guitarist Dave Mustaine, threw down the gauntlet to his former charges and sold millions of albums in their own right; and Metallica, having put the death of bass player Cliff Burton behind them, were slowly but surely positioning themselves to become the biggest metal band in the world.
Heavy metal’s dream-ticket Big Four tour | The Guardian
Nice mini-history of metal in The Guardian today. Love any article that namechecks both Municipal Waste and Stormtroopers of Death — that’s how you name a band.
GQ — There have been stories about you sneaking up behind people in New York City, covering their eyes with your hands, and saying: Guess who. And when they turn around, they see Bill Murray and hear the words “No one will ever believe you.”
Bill Murray: [long pause] I know. I know, I know, I know. I’ve heard about that from a lot of people. A lot of people. I don’t know what to say. There’s probably a really appropriate thing to say. Something exactly and just perfectly right. [long beat, and then he breaks into a huge grin] But by God, it sounds crazy, doesn’t it? Just so crazy and unlikely and unusual?
Young journalists who once dreamed of trotting the globe in pursuit of a story are instead shackled to their computers, where they try to eke out a fresh thought or be first to report even the smallest nugget of news — anything that will impress Google algorithms and draw readers their way.
Tracking how many people view articles, and then rewarding — or shaming — writers based on those results has become increasingly common in old and new media newsrooms. The New York Times, The Washington Post and The Los Angeles Times all display a “most viewed” list on their home pages.
At Gawker Media’s offices in Manhattan, a flat-screen television mounted on the wall displays the 10 most-viewed articles across all Gawker’s Web sites. The author’s last name, along with the number of page views that hour and over all are prominently shown in real time on the screen, which Gawker has named the “big board.”
Fortean Times / itsfullofstars:
There are those who believe that somewhere, in the vast blackness of space, about nine billion miles from the Sun, the first human is about to cross the boundary of our Solar System into interstellar space. His body, perfectly preserved, is frozen at –270 degrees C (–454ºF); his tiny capsule has been silently sailing away from the Earth at 18,000 mph (29,000km/h) for the last 45 years. He is the original lost cosmonaut, whose rocket went up and, instead of coming back down, just kept on going.
It is the ultimate in Cold War legends: that at the dawn of the Space Age, in the late 1950s and throughout the 1960s, the Soviet Union had two space programmes, one a public programme, the other a ‘black’ one, in which far more daring and sometimes downright suicidal missions were attempted. It was assumed that Russia’s Black Ops, if they existed at all, would remain secret forever.
The ‘Lost Cosmonauts’ debate has been reawakened thanks to a new investigation into the efforts of two ingenious, radio-mad young Italian brothers who, starting in 1957, hacked into both Russia’s and NASA’s space programmes – so effectively that the Russians, it seems, may have wanted them dead.