True! See Jessica Hagy's blog here. I remain a daily fan.

The Morning News links this month to Futility Closet's reprinting of "Twelve Ways to Commit Suicide," which is from "the American Medical Journal, reprinted in the Manhattan and de la Salle Monthly, 1875."

It's a great read, not about suicide but how poor life choices lead to sickness and death. "Wearing insufficient clothing, and especially upon the limbs and extremities" is positioned near the top of the list, as is "Leading a life of enfeebling, stupid laziness, and keeping the mind in an unnatural state of excitement by reading trashy novels." Lower, we learn the grave danger of "Being irregular in all our habits of sleeping and eating, going to bed at midnight and getting up at noon."

What's also fun is Googling the article's history. Among the minimal results, several links are Futility Closet-related. But others are not.

We also find: a June 21, 1856 printing in the Quincy Patriot, excerpted in a 2006 Patriot-Ledger retrospective; a September 1856 printing in Presbyterian Magazine; a Dec. 18, 1856 printing in Australia's Hobart Town Daily Courier (map); a January 1858 reprinting in Presbyterian Magazine;  a Dec. 5, 1872 printing from the Weekly Kansas; an 1874 appearance in Our Home Counselor, A Practical Cyclopedia for Daily Use, Containing Reliable Recipes, Legal Forms, Interest Tables, Etc., by one L.W. Yaggy; that Futility Closet-mentioned 1875 printing in Manhattan and de la Salle Monthly.; a Dec. 24, 1881 printing in Tit-Bits, "From all the most interesting books, periodicals and newspapers in the world," the On Deadline of its day; and an 1894 run in Hall's Journal of Health.

Beyond the Manhattan publication, only the Australian paper credits the American Medical and Surgical Journal. If only digital editions with copy controls had existed at the time, to stop this content madness.

Tweets the Washington City Paper last night: "Ward One Candidate Bryan Weaver Produces Funkiest Ad of Campaign Season – tightt." Friend Josh retweets it, and hey, there's me and Meghan! Find us at the 1:35 mark. Remember the morning of the cereal restaurant and doughnuts? The final photo there shows the taping of this video.

That photo, showing a shot they didn't use:

DCist calls it "The Best Campaign Video You'll See All Year."

As you know, this blog takes no political stands. But this blog strongly endorses: Sly and the Family Stone's Underdog, all doughnuts, funny campaign videos regardless of the politics, and things that are meta.

Because, you see, as we sit in the background, we're talking with one of his volunteers — the guy who plays the mugger — about the video in which we're now appearing. We're so meta we don't know even it.

Walking to work Monday morning, a window washer hangs above my head and for fun pushes himself off the building and into the air. In the light, all my cellphone grabs is his reflection in his windows. His work!

It's been a non-stop week, day and night, and isn't likely to slow down for another week. But I'm enjoying myself. Very much. More to come.

Busy as can be. Hope to resume here in the next day.

Update Thursday: Today is not the day. Let's root for tomorrow!

This sign hung beneath the beach house: GONALOFABIT. The house's name? The word appeared nowhere else, in the house or on paper.

I'm going to remember this year's beach trip as one of running into the ocean. Every time I went into the ocean, I ran in. The first day we were there, Rob joke-suggested doing so, and I took him up on it. Run, run, high-step, high-step, topple, let waves fall on me, freeze, stand, swim.

I'm not thrilled with the way this picture turned out, but I could not be happier with the way the dish and the rest of our meal went tonight at Blue Moon Beach Grille. We typically eat out the night before we leave the beach, and neither of our two favorite places from past years were available. One was hosting a wedding reception, and another location had changed hands. So, I was putting in charge of finding a new spot.

At the top of TripAdvisor's Outer Banks rankings was Blue Moon. The reviews were numerous, recent and claimed it was the beach's new best restaurant. High praise! And you can now us among the faithful.

All the reviews said the people there couldn't have been nicer, and I'm now thinking science would agree. With rain closing the outside tables, the hostess took our number — first time we've ever seen that on the Outer Banks — and we killed time nearby at Kitty Hawk Kites, where my family has had fun killing time for about two-plus decades now. Not bad. After the call came and returned, the waiter was welcoming, hit every mark, was inquisitive about the dishes, and had me thinking about key lime pie all the drive home even though I had less than zero room for it. A Cooper man and his desserts… My dad guessed it was a family-run place, with the staff seemingly pros instead of summer help. He was right. Scott and Melissa Shields, so well done. And the food–

What you see here is Angel's Delight. "Shrimp and blue crab, sautéed in a light white wine sauce, with vine-ripened tomatoes, fresh green onion, roasted red peppers, garlic, and basil. Finished with whole butter and served over angel hair pasta and topped with parmesan cheese." Are there more ways to make me happy? (Only if I can fit in dessert…) Flavors bounced all the smart ways, and though I filled up, never felt heavy. The rest of the family said the same about theirs. A long way from the beach's usual sea platters. Lead-ins had the same precision. The calamari was in a white wine, cherry pepper and lemon butter sauce. I'm not sure I've had better. Even the Caesar brought bacon and onion to the tastes. Among the dishes, not a wrong move.

I know the post sounds overly effusive. But when you've been going somewhere on vacation for two-plus decades and seen the island's evolution, it's thoroughly exciting to find the new best restaurant in a hidden strip mall facing neither the old main road nor the new one.

Glad to see business was bustling tonight. We'll be back next year.

Looking down the island, reading on the porch, just before dinner.

Looking the other way from the same spot, up the island and west.

Shrimp with tomato and feta, orzo with green beans, fruit, Malbec.

After that rainy morning yesterday, perfect weather for evening.

*Not counting the NYT's wacky graf describing a wildly plotted book.

From Wired's May story about Radio Shack, a paragraph discussing the chain's chairman and CEO in the 1960s and 1970s, Charles Tandy:

Craftiness was in Tandy's bloodline. He cut his teeth helming the family business, the Tandy Leather Company, which sold leather and leatherworking tools to veterans' hospitals and Boy Scouts. The cigar-chomping Texan was the kind of eccentric, larger-than-life executive that any modern PR handler would keep tightly muzzled. He celebrated his 60th birthday by riding a rented elephant around the grounds of his mansion, and he kept a plastic breast on his desk that made a gong sound when he pressed the nipple. It was how he called for more coffee.

GONG. From the same issue, who else wants a gramophone?

Early Thursday morning, the family fishermen went into the sea. They took this adventure every year. Some years were better than others.

This year was an other year. This year, they caught three acceptable flounder, several dozen flounder that were all a quarter of inch to two inches too short and several pufferfish. A pufferfish, as one of the first mates on the fam's rented boats demonstrated, could be rubbed on its belly and then bounced like a basketball. Pufferfish were edible — but only the parts that weren't poisonous. The family fisherman left them behind. Cousin Matt, who would be the person to cook any fish taken home, didn't want the added responsibility of not killing the relatives.

Still! We bought shrimp and scallops and had our usual feast…

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