Christopher DeLuca

Follow @chrisd on Micro.blog.

Artists compete with each other for status so fiercely that they often run out of ways to look more upper-class. So, a favorite maneuver is to adopt patterns from the lower class. But while they might wear clothes designed for factory workers, they wouldn’t wear polo shirts or khaki pants because those are coded as middle class—too much danger that their competitors might not understand their advanced maneuver.

A fascinating long-form on how taste is informed by status seeking from Dynomight Internet Newsletter.

Eat at Haidilao Hot Pot in Flushing yesterday. Meal lasted ~3 hours. So damn good. I only have one photo of the food from before anything was cooked as after I was too busy stuffing my face.

Four soup bases in the center of a table, two ladles sticking out of the broth. Some peppers and crispy tofu peak out. There's a small plate of pineapple next to the soup.

I added a search page to my blog. Let me know if you find anything interesting.

Has there ever been a bigger drop in quality in album art than between the first two Danzig albums?

The first record? One of the most iconic images in hard rock.

The first danzig album cover art, featuring a black field with a demon skull emossed in white

The second record? Prank.

The second danzig album cover art, featuring a black and white photo of Danzig's hairy white chest, his hands gripping a crucifix with a demon skull on it.
A photo of me on stage in a black box theater, shot from behind. I'm a bald, aging white man. I'm wearing black jeans and a pastel pink dress shirt. My hands a splayed out in eggagerated gestures. Some of my improv teammates, an Asian woman, three white men, and a black man, look on.

Got to perform in a wonderful, supportive speed-dating improv show last night. These shows are always so fun and the audience has such a great time, not to mention us the performers. Check loose corn on Instragram for upcoming shows.

Great piece on privacy and money, and why it matters to society.

Privacy suffers from a collective action dilemma: individually it isn’t worth much and so we don’t defend it, but lack of privacy is immensely costly when lost en masse. Moreover, our data, en masse, is worth a lot to corporations and governments. Thus privacy has few defenders and strong attackers.

Once, after a ring-bearer dog defecated in the aisle, she scooped up the dog poop with her bare hands to prevent the bride from soiling her dress.

Merely one of the bonkers stories of the world’s most successful professional bridesmaid. Ignore the vague waft of click-bait, this is a detailed, fully reported piece.

My brilliant co-owner Greg Dunlap has a Kickstarter up for his new book, Designing Content Authoring Experiences. If you work with Content Management Systems, you owe yourself a look.

Yesterday I Learned that the Chinese zodiac has subtypes based on the elements. So, 2024 is the year the Wood Dragon, and I was born under the Fire Tiger. 🪵🐲

These Stickers to Manage Replies by Don Hon seem useful. How cool would it be if they were built in to social media sites?

I added a faint grain to the background of my site, but I keep thinking it’s too subtle and just looks like your monitor is dirty.

It’s a snow day in Astoria ❄️

Accumulating snow as seen through my water streaked and screened window. Two and three story buildings are dusted with snow. The sky is white obscuring the bridge almost completely.

Welcome to the Webmention-a-verse but she’s a girl…!

Had amazing Sichuan food at Hupo in Long Island City. So good, I’m jealous of my past self.

Dishes of golden tofu, beef stew , crispy tofu, and rice.

I’m very glad I’m not thirteen anymore, because I did improv practice then played Magic instead of watching the Super Bowl, and that would have gotten my ass kicked. 😎

A humble, thoughtful, and in-depth analysis of algorithms and their use and misuse from a former Spotify engineer.

The same words tell different ideas
Different ideas tell the same words
Words tell the same ideas different
Ideas tell words the different same
Different ideas tell tell different
Same same different ideas
Same same different same
Words words tell words

What’s that got to do with it

My colleagues made me aware of lumpers versus splitters, which might be the ultimate meta-taxonomy.

Taking a short bus ride into a short walk to pick up my city boy coffee on a warm day right here in Astoria. ☕️

A bag of coffee beans being held by my white hand in front of a wall of graffiti.

You ever feel a sense of obligation looking at your podcast backlog? And they’re all comedy podcasts? “I am duty bound to listen to nonsense!”

I don’t know how it happened, but I need everyone to know that my cousin and I are the coolest motherfuckers in the world right now.

Two white people walk confidently towards the camera. The first, my cousin Karolina, is wearing dark sunglasses, a black baseball hat, leather pants, and a jacket. I'm behind her, wearing polarized sunglasses, dark jeans, and a grey balzer over a black half button. We look dope.

When some people say, “there’s nothing new under the sun,” they mean, “pure originality is a myth; isn’t it wonderful to be in this continuum of human thought?”

When other people say it, they mean, “I’m a hack.”

Good to be wary of advice that sounds too much like a self pep talk.

An especially poignant title text from xkcd’s Relationship Advice comic.

I am a creative. I am too busy making the next thing to spend too much time deeply considering that almost nothing I make will come anywhere near the greatness I comically aspire to.

I relate. From I am a creative over on A List Apart.

Unexpected Trek

I’ve been excavating old writings. This is the oldest one I’m willing to share at this point. Flash fiction that made it into my college literary journal Font circa 2006. Confirms my fascination with ignored spaces.


Every day after school, Danny Fitzwilliam would ride his bike home. He could have taken the bus, but he liked riding his bike because it made him feel connected to the journey. No grimy, impersonal windows to get between him and the outdoors; just the pure pleasure of being part of the world. Danny liked to watch the muggy suburban landscape pass him by. He liked to watch the different objects that made up suburbia, noticing the intricacies of each one; hedges, telephone poles, pinwheels, evenly spaced trees, sparkling clean sedans, flowerbeds, and mailboxes. Danny didn’t like mailboxes, and every time he saw one he would say, “Check,” to keep it at bay. Mailboxes could be vicious creatures, and you could never be too careful around them.

Danny liked to play ball, but he had no one to play with. One day after school, as Danny was walking down Oak Street, bouncing his big red ball in front of him, he happened upon a scrawny tabby cat, which meowed piteously. Grateful for a playmate, Danny threw the ball at the cat. The cat scampered away with a yowl.

The previous day, while Danny was riding his bike, he forgot to say, “check” to a mailbox, and it went postal and killed him. Afterwards, the previous paragraph never happened.