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In case you haven't heard about Time Piles, Dylan Romer explains his trippy new art app

dylan romer time piles

This was originally published on the Huffington Post Miami and the HuffPo Tech section. Read it again here!

Lets talk about it from Time Piles on Vimeo.


I love how I wrote this about Dylan and the first image on this video of the interview is me with my tongue out. Thanks, Dylan.

Buy Time Piles. Don’t suck.

For years, South Florida-bred artist and daytime software developer Dylan Romer ran around town with a laptop, a camcorder, and an XBox 360 controller. Armed with a BFA from FIU, an MFA from UF, and a homemade program, he created live psychedelic video art that screened at galleries around Miami. He captured events as they happened — people booty-dancing at shows, performance artists writhing, drummers pounding — and translated the images into choppy renderings of reorganized time. Through his program, the world looks like a moving collage of double exposed images.

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Brilliant drunk phone book entries: includes Beeeeeef Beeferton & Ashley I'm too drunk bro

george drunk phone 1

THL pal George gave us this magnificent and real list of iPhone entries he typed in his phone while very drunk. Enjoy these babies. They’re the tits.

Read the rest after the jump!

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Week one: John's Miami to New York "adventures"

I flew to New York this past Monday via the first one-way ticket I have ever purchased. I spent the flight reading The Great Gatsby and pretending not to smell the old lady farts that occurred like clockwork every 10 minutes.

My phone is the receptacle for these thoughts although it is nearly impossible to draw from my pocket. It has to go past my keychain, which is flush with NYC apartment keys and my own from Miami. There are three tiny keys I found on the streets of Rome that I nearly lost when walking on the featureless expanse of Miller Drive, on which I live. Correction, lived.

There comes a moment before every flight where I debate necessity. A long moment, like all moments are on planes, where everything you do is hurrying along only to wait. Today I’m not worrying about the flight itself (even though Spirit Air makes chicken buses seem like luxury liners) but of the destination. The whole of the last 24 hours has been doubt caused at least in part by exhaustion and now illness. No doubt this will continue, abetted by the realization that the people waiting for the plane are all the sorts I will be sharing a city with. There are lots of New Yawkers waiting, chewing their words like a dog would chew a chain and throwing their weight around.

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