I found out about Bordier butter before my 2014 trip to Paris, and I sought it out as soon as I arrived. It’s not the easiest product to find, and it’s certainly among the more expensive butters on the French market, but it’s worth every minute and every penny it takes to get it on your plate. This video shows the manufacturing process, with emphasis on the “manu”; it’s all made by hand, and with a lot of love and respect for the process and ingredients. Fascinating video.

https://youtu.be/0GFtx5P7Mu8

We were at an event in South Carolina during the campaign in 2007. The President stopped to do a short interview, and then someone tossed him a basketball and we’re live on CNN. And I’m like, “Do not shoot this. Do not shoot this. Do not shoot this.” In the stupid world of politics, the metaphor of the candidate missing a shot on live television would have been unfortunate. And he kind of looks at me, like, “Really?” And fires one, and makes it, live on television, sort of feeding the legend of Obama, clutch individual. And [then he] walks into the rally. Which is something that he brought up with me for at least five years afterwards. Every time I would jokingly tell him not to do something, he would point out that I had told him not to make that shot, and he had made it. It was in jest but it was pretty serious, too. The point he was making always was: I’m good at moments like these, so don’t doubt me.

Source: The Oral History of President Barack Obama Playing Pickup Basketball

(Not really.)

Source: Seven Astronauts describe what it feels like to be in space. | Gyfhub

This is fantastic. Everyone knows that the service exists, but I had no idea how it got started. Hooray for public servants with senses of humour (and ice in their veins).

It all started in 1955 with a misprint in a Colorado newspaper and a call to Col. Harry Shoup’s secret military hotline. Shoup played along with the tiny voice who called, and a tradition was born.

Source: NORAD’s Santa Tracker Began With A Typo And A Good Sport

A club in Britain gave a fantastic response to a racist drunk who was turned away, and in typical Facebook fashion the club’s post – not the racist’s – was deleted. Luckily someone has saved it and posted it to the Indy. Worth a read to see an aggressive bitch get her comeuppance. There hasn’t been enough of that in 2016.

A woman who was turned away from The Loft nightclub in Weston-Super-Mare for being too drunk decided the best response was to post a racist rant on Facebook. Deborah Smith was refused entry from the club, and went home to complain on The Loft’s page. She wrote: It is 3.30am and I have been refused entry to the LOFT in Weston Super Mare!!!! Why???? Because some foreign t**t says I was too p**sed to enter.

Source: Nightclub responds brilliantly to a woman’s racist rant

I’m not really a Christmassy person, but if I can send greetings in the historic Victorian way (i.e. with a creepy image and some seriously mystic symbolism) I’m all in. Ho ho ho.

One of the more curious recurring images on 19th-century Christmas cards is the dead bird, which may symbolize mortality, or something more ritualistic.

Source: Why Are There Dead Birds on Victorian Christmas Cards?

I haven’t had the energy to tackle Gord Downie’s Secret Path, but by all accounts it is astounding. We don’t all get to choose the manner of our death, but it’s heartening to see Gord decide what to do with the time he’s been given.

The other name Downie never forgets is Edgar – his father’s. The Downie boys worshipped him, and still do. Three days after they buried him, Gord Downie had his first seizure. It was a bad winter.

There’s a long pause. “That could be my sensation as I’m going out,” Downie muses. “‘Oh, there’s Edgar.’ That’d be fabulous.”

While he’s still creating and making plans, the Tragically Hip front man is trying hard not to get ahead of himself

Source: If Secret Path ‘is the last thing I do, I’m happy’: What happens to Gord Downie next

I first heard about Rob Delaney around the same time everyone first heard of Rob Delaney – when the guy in the neon budgie smuggler somehow became the darling of Twitter. I admit, I checked out his page, puzzled over who exactly this unknown was who every major comedian was retweeting, but didn’t follow him myself. I happened to be in Britain last year during the airing of Catastrophe, however, and ever since then I am following Rob Delaney in every way possible. Turns out he’s not only funny but an incredibly thoughtful writer and a social activist after my own heart – considerate and angry by turns. This piece about homophobia sums it up. Come for the comedy, stay for the humanism and well-turned phrases.

Homophobes aren’t going to hell, like they often say their perceived opponents are. Rather they are in hell, and they prolong their stay with each hateful act, word, and thought. They can leave whenever they want.

Source: Take a Stroll… with Rob Delaney – On Hating Gay People | VICE | United States