Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Vitamins Reclassified

It is no secret that science has made a mess of our vitamin terminology. It started with such a simple concept. There were five vitamins, so call them A, B, C, D, and E. Then someone invented vitamin K, and it was all downhill from there. Now we have vitamin B1, B2, B3, B5 -- but no B4? -- and all the rest. Then, we have those things that are almost vitamins. Is lycopene a vitamin? The ketchup industry wishes it were. Are antioxidants vitamins? Vitamin E is an antioxidant. If you ask me, vitamins are nutrients (not minerals) that you cannot live without. I can live without lycopene.

It's time for a new broom. I give you, my vitamin nomenclature:

Retinol: Retinol is a good vitamin. It's an essential nutrient, and it has a good name. But I'm afraid I have to supplant it at the pole position. See below. In the meantime, let's call it, um... vitamin R. R for retinol, you see.

Biotin: Formerly known ("known") as B7, Wikipedia says that Biotin is also known as vitamin H. Who am I to argue?

Thiamine: Thiamine contains a thiazole ring, and forms thiamine triphosphate. Thiamine is vitamin T.

Vitamin D3: The one and only Real Vitamin D.

Vitamin D2: I seriously did not know this existed until just now. Apparently it is different from "real Vitamin D" but also similar. I will call it Vitamin I, for incognito.

Vitamin D4: Wikipedia offers no information at all about this secret vitamin, AKA dihydrotachysterol. I will call it vitamin X, because X is the most mysterious letter.

Vitamin E: The ordering system has been completely upset by the addition of all those other vitamins, but I see no reason this should not remain vitamin E.

Folic acid: Am I the only one who is bothered when huge organic molecules get called "acid"? It doesn't make a difference whether it loses a proton. Its status as an acid is not the most important fact here. I give folate an F for failure, but also for vitamin F.

Pyridoxine: Can I digress from my prepared remarks, and say that B6 is a wonder vitamin? It "might help children with learning difficulties." Overdose causes "a feeling of disembodiment." And it may increase dream vividness. It will henceforth be known as vitamin A. Hooray!

Niacin: Formerly known as vitamin PP, for "Pellagra-preventing factor". Good effort trying to overturn the one-letter-per-name cartel, but not good enough for me. Let's call it vitamin P.

Naphthaquinone: Known as vitamin K. The K, the letter that upset the whole vitamin apple cart, stands for Koagulation. Was it worth overturning a whole nomenclature for? Definitely. If I had a German industrial band, it would be called "Koagulation". The decision stands. Vitamin K.


Cyanocobalamin: The biggest, best, and hardest-to-come-by vitamin. All the cobalt in your body is in this molecule unless you are sick. Nobody can make it but bacteria. If any of the teeming mass deserves to be called Vitamin B, this is it.

Ascorbic acid: Vitamin C is a good name, right, because C sounds like Sea, which is where you get scurvy.... Is any of this getting through to you?

So there you have it. There are probably other vitamins, like vitamin K2, produced by bacteria in your intestines. Some would say that K2 is in on a technicality. Call me old fashioned, but I don't think you can separate the bacteria and the man. Finally, what about cholesterol? Is it a vitamin? I guess it's not. Not even good cholesterol? If you want to be a vitamin scientist, you will have to deal with fine distinctions like these.

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Barbaro Mortuus Est

Quotes I hope will apply to me when I die (all from one NY Times article):
  • "He was just a different horse."
  • "Grief is the pain we all pay for love."
  • "The vast majority of the time he was a happy horse."
  • "People love greatness. People love the story of his bravery.

Monday, January 29, 2007

Scientism

My Constitutional theories have never been popular, but I don't see how we can go on treating religion the way we do. Christianity is a religion (several religions, I guess) according to the Constitution. Buddhism, Taoism, and Scientology are all religions, subject to the establishment clause. Especially with those last three, the supernatural elements are either missing or stupid. So why isn't "Scientism", as I will call it, being treated as a religion by the government?

By Scientism, I mean the scientific world-view, complete with "creation story", beliefs about the supernatural (i.e. that it doesn't exist), and inherent negation of other religions. Are there any good reasons not to consider this a religion? You could argue that it doesn't posit a god, but neither do Scientology or Confucianism. Unless I'm mistaken, Scientology explicitly denies the supernatural -- hence the name. Scientologists are obviously wrong, but since when was rightness a criterion for judging religions?

Adherents of Scientism seldom go into religious ecstasies -- there's not much spiritual feeling among the empiricist community -- but then, who does? I'm willing to bet that Presbyterians are no more likely to have a spiritual experience than evolutionists. Besides, using adherents' spirituality as a criterion for judging what is a religion is bigoted. Most Scientologists are just in it for the money, but "true" Scientologists are still real believers in a real religion. Devout Christians don't consider themselves religious either; they believe themselves to have a "relationship" with Christ. Likewise, most Scientists wouldn't consider themselves religious, but that doesn't invalidate the fact that Scientism makes real claims about the fundamental nature of the universe, the purpose of life, and the origin of everything.

Most of those claims are negative. Almost all of them are negative, it being in the nature of Science to disprove more than it proves. But they are claims nevertheless, and implacably opposed to Christianity et al. It's my religion, I guess (I feel stupid saying that) and I naturally think it's the right religion, but that doesn't make it Constitutional for the government to fund scientific projects; especially not cosmological projects like the Hubble Telescope. Knowledge about distant stars has bearing on religion.

The natural response is probably to say "but science gets results. It's not just airy thought about the big questions. It's thanks to the scientific frame of mind that we have supercomputers and ballpoint pens." This misses the point, though. Religions don't get special status, and especially not special consideration from the government, by being true. Christians think Christianity is correct. They write tracts about it, citing the prophets whose prophecies are miraculously coming to life. That's evidence enough for them, and if you think that the peer-review/hypothesis-experiment method is better, well, that's just, like, your opinion. You would think that, as a Scientist, and it is not for the government to rule on disputes between religions.

Saturday, January 27, 2007

You Are Here

Not much to say here. But it might be worthwhile to point out that this illustration:



gives us a look at the breakdown of the New York Times chain of command. The illustrator wasn't given enough information to do his job, so he draws this intruiging item. Notice the huge freaking dot. This would look good on a Latin flash card or as a postmodern painting.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Culinary Genius

You read in cookbooks that certain recipes turn out badly at high altitudes. I believe it. When water only boils at 95 degrees C, dishes will tend to be to be undercooked and dry. The solution, they tell you, is to use a pressure cooker when possible, and to adjust the recipes where necessary.

How parochial though. The best possible environment for cooking, cookbooks tell you, is the kind that you find in Paris. How convenient. There's no reason that should be so. Maybe some dishes cook better below atmospheric pressure. Sure, your spaghetti will be mushy and "overdone", but let us not be afraid of trying new things. It is a new experience, and in a world so jaded, maybe 60% atm. pasta is just what we need.

Of course, you could get the same results by cooking your pasta in 90 degree water at home. For the really exotic, you need to go below sea level. Has anybody ever tried cooking at >1 atmospheres of pressure? The Dead Sea is low, but only slightly lower than sea level. Even so, are the souffles that much sturdier? Is the pasta that much more savory? You don't hear this word used often with respect to Palestine, but I'm going to say it: Lucky.

With the technology available to us, surely we can do even better. Pressure cookers only seem to be used for disinfecting and moonshining. Has anybody tried cooking noodles at 110 C? They might be disgusting (but, as before, open minds please) but they might be even better than atmospheric pasta. We are told that the ideal temperature for brewing tea is 100 degrees C. For a long time, that was the best we could do. With a little technology, I am sure that it would be easy to brew tea at whatever temperature your heart desired.

And you thought food cooked adequately at sub-100 degree temperatures. Perhaps there are unheard-of, delicious chemical reactions that only take place under pressure. If you had told a caveman that eggs coagulate when you cook them, he would have called you a liar. Imagine what eggs may do at 150 degrees and beyond. We stand at the frontier.

Symphony Number 1 in B# (The Coffee Symphony)

Time for another installment of "I must be doing it wrong." Jitters are the scourge of the business class, according to the New York Times Style section. (No I don't have a link. And I never read the article. But you just *know* they wrote it.) But I'm pretty sure I've never been jittery.

I've never been so energetic that it upset me. That's what jitteriness is, right? Most people claim that if they drink too much coffee, they become "jittery" and "anxious" and irritable. That doesn't seem to happen to me. Not to expose you to unwanted personal details, but if I drink a lot of coffee, I become nauseated and sweaty. People also say that other things make them antsy -- quitting cigarettes, or quitting heroin, or menstrual cycles -- but I don't have any experience with those.

More to the point, though, why is over-excitement bad? I suppose the answer could be a brute "It's bad because it makes you feel bad; don't try to argue with my conscious experience." But I get the impression, from talking to caffeine survivors, that perhaps jitteriness is bad because it makes you scatterbrained and inattentive. I don't really know, of course; asking people about their conscious experiences is confusing. It seems unlikely that being wide awake and energetic, the state of mind in which great symphonies are written, and people are at their most charming, could be bad. All I know is that I never feel unpleasantly stimulated when I drink coffee. The rest of you... gosh, I don't know. Maybe next time, try composing a symphony.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Wikipedia Sentence for Today

"However, the fact that we're all still alive would seem to bring this theory into question."

If you're not awesome enough to appreciate that sentence alone, see here for context.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Northwest Passage

Why were people so interested in the Northwest Passage? The obvious answer is that it would have allowed them to get to China without going around Africa. Instead, they would have had to go, um, around Canada. This route is probably shorter, but it must have been obvious, even in 1600, that it was not easier.

The history of the Northwest Passage is pretty tortuous. We weren't sure there was one until 1648, and not until 1854 that there was one in the Western hemisphere. It wasn't navigated until 1906. By that time, no doubt, the commercial aspects of it had totally evaporated, and navigating the Northwest Passage had become one of those "jumping over the English Channel" things that were so popular in the Edwardian period.


What I wonder, though, is why everybody in 1600 was so sure there *was* a Northwest Passage. It's not obvious. Why shouldn't Siberia and Canada be joined by a land bridge over the North Pole? Maybe the weird Dantean geography that prevailed at the time gave Hudson and Frobisher reason to think that the New World and the Old World were separated by water, but I can't imagine why.
Maybe it was all just wishful thinking.

But what an arbitrary thing to wish for. Northeast Passages didn't get half the love that Northwest ones did, despite being actually passable. What about Cape Horn? Did they even try to navigate up the Amazon? Nope. Everyone gravitated straight up Baffin Bay. I am beginning to think that there was a scam going on. "We can make more money with a flop than with a hit," they thought. Roald Amundsen put theory into practice and massively oversold shares in his expedition. He would have gotten away with it too, if his crew had been in on the scheme. Instead, his voyage was an unexpected success, and he had to flee to Antarctica. You know the rest of the story.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Nineteenth Century Blogging

Did everyone have a nice long wekend? Yes? Good.

Lewis Carrol, back in his day, posed a series of mathematical problems, and invited his readers to submit answers. Apparently they did, signed with pseudonyms. Of course, I couldn't be sure whether the readers signed themselves "Theseus" or "Nil Desperandum", or whether Carrol did. He seems playful, and I wouldn't put it past him. Anyhow, what's striking is how similar the pseudonyms are through the ages.

For instance:

The Red Queen
Bradshaw of the Future
Clifton C.
Old King Cole
An Old Fogey
Three-Fifths Asleep
Veritas

So, rather more Latin, and fewer arcane strings of digits, but the overall effect is the same. Wish fulfillment and tired jokes. On the internet (Oxford), nobody knows you, so why not be Theseus?

Thursday, January 18, 2007

“There is a lot of violence in here”

The New York Times likes to run this silly article every few years. Did you know that politicians live in Washington? And that some of them live together? If the answer isn't yes, then read the article. For me, the answer was yes, but I'm not going to say the Paper of Record doesn't have anything to teach me. Previous instances of the Times' obession were a little more harmless. Mostly, that men, living with other men, are messy. But this time, it slips out that the Democratic delegation to Congress is awfully sadistic.

For instance, "...it overlooks Mr. Durbin’s gift for killing rats. 'He will kill them with his bare hands,' Mr. Delahunt marveled." Why would you kill rats with your bare hands? Why would you pick up a live rat? Why not just let the rat trap get it? And once you've got the live rat, why kill it? I know rats are vermin, but you have to be a special kind of person to kill something you're holding. I figure Richard Dubin takes relish in killing things.

It goes on to imply that these honorable representatives and Senators kill crickets. Who ever heard of killing crickets? Did they get loose from someone's iguana terrarium? I think that our members of congress are probably running an insect fighting ring out of their apartment.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Opposable Thumbs

Not set off by anything in particular: I am tired of people saying that humans are the dominant species because of our opposable thumbs. To be honest, I'm not sure if anyone says this seriously. Maybe they're all being facetious, and the joke's on me. But assuming they do mean it, they're not thinking very hard.

It's not hard to see why primates have opposable thumbs. You can get much more purchase on a branch by gripping it with your fingers above and your thumb below, than you can with just your fingers. Rats can grip things, but they can't swing from tree to tree. Humans have opposable thumbs mainly because their recent ancestors did, and there's no evolutionary pressure against them.

It's certianly not like humans have much use for opposable thumbs. Perhaps when they climb trees, thumbs are as useful as ever. But opposable thumb-partisans claim that humans are uniquely suited to use tools. Is there any reason to think that? As I say, thumbs are important for hanging on to branches. But what simple tools work better with support from behind? I can use pens, forks, knives, hammers, screwdrivers, ladders and brooms all perfectly well without thumbs. I seldom even pick things up with my thumbs. I pick them up between my index and middle fingers, and I *like it*.

Opposable thumbs are useless. If you want to claim that unusual appendages are the key to human success, how about having extra arms, like a rhinoceros beetle? Or having opposable big toes, like a chimp? Or having more than one opposable finger per hand? Octopusses can pick up all kinds of things, with completely opposable hands, but they're still not doing as well as less pathetic animals. Let spider monkeys have their 5 prehensile limbs. The actual secret to humans' evolutionary success is that we? Are awesome.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

King Day

I forgot to wish you a happy holiday. I don't have many opinions on Martin Luther King Day, and even fewer that I'm sure won't get me into trouble. You never know.

Anyhow, I'm glad it's a holiday (more holidays please) and I wish that we didn't call him "Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr." He wasn't an M.D., so the "Dr." is inappropriate; I don't like to use people's middle names frequently; and his father is both dead and not famous, so the Jr. is unnecessary. I call him Martin King, and I think you should too.

Actually, I'm not sure that won't get me into trouble. Uh oh.

Uh oh. Did I mention that I'm in favor of racial harmony?

Facial Expressions

I like dictionaries, but they really drop the ball when it comes to expressions. Go to your favorite dictionary, and look up "sneer", or "grimace", or "leer". Completely useless. Even "frown" doesn't get a fair treatment from the lexicographers.

For instance, Dictionary.com defines a grimace as "a facial expression, often contorted, that indicates disapproval, pain, etc." I already knew that. What I did not know, and what I still do not know, is what a grimace looks like. "Contorted" is not enough. Is the mouth open? Are the teeth showing? What are the eyebrows doing? Leers sometimes indicate lustfulness, but what do leers look like? Is a leer just whatever you're doing when you ogle someone? I don't think we should define our facial expressions by what mental states produce them.

How am I supposed to tell if someone is sneering at me? I *hear* that it sometimes involves curled lips. But some people can't curl one side of their lip (I can't curl the right side). Are they still sneering? The dictionary is where we turn when we wonder what words mean. If it can't tell us what a grimace is, can America as a society be said to have any understanding of grimaces? I'm sure I can find someone to tell me what a grimace is, but without the universalization that dictionaries provide, how can I tell he's not lying or idiosyncratic?

Maybe Americans really do have widely variant opinions of what a grimace is. Maybe dodging the issue is the dictionary's way of telling us. If it comes to that, though, Dictionary.com could save us a lot of time. Just append a "No one will understand this word" tag to questionable items like "leer". There are lots of useful things a dictionary could be doing, only don't clutter up our minds with vestigial half-definitions like this. We all know that's not what a grimace is.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Directors

To people who know about movies (like Socrates, I do not know about movies), the most important thing to know about a movie is who directed it. Why? After lengthy queries, I think I know what the director does. He is like the manager of the project that is *the movie*, making the decisions about where the cameras should go, and what color the hero's necktie should be, and who should act in what role. A badly directed movie would be bad indeed.

But is the director the most important element? People watch movies -- at least, I watch a movie -- to see an interesting story told in a compelling or moving way. It's *possible* to save a bad story with good acting and directing (The Godfather, Pt. II, comes to mind), but it's certainly rare. Godfather II aside, can anybody think of a good movie with a boring screenplay?

Of course, the director has lots of influence on the screenplay. He may shuffle around words, or cut out scenes, or alter stage directions, or whatever. But nobody could claim that he has more impact on the movie than the screenwriter, the real hero of moviemaking. The director arguably has less influence even than the actors. Since the actors are the focus of nearly every scene, the quality of the acting has a lot more influence on the quality of their movie than the peripheral stuff that the director is concerned with. (Yes, the director can tell the actors how to act, but it's still the actors who are responsible for their own performance.)

You might reply that directors, like managers, become notable because of their ability to discern good ideas from bad. What makes a director great is that he can pick out the good screenplays (and the good parts of them), the good actors, the good costumes, and the good scores. That would certainly explain why good directors make good movies, but it's an inadequate proof.

If what you're arguing is that good directors choose good musical scores -- that's fine, but credit the composer. He did more work than the director. Likewise, the person actually responsible for good work deserves more credit than the man who picks it out. Or perhaps you're arguing that good directors tend to direct good movies, for the reasons mentioned above, and are a handy guide to which movies are likely to be entertaining.

But if that's the case, why are we worshipping directors? Film critics should be a more reliable guide to which movies are good and which movies are bad. That's their job, you know. Directors can only control the quality of a movie from the inside, and imperfectly. So, new assignment for you, film people. Please identify your favorite film critic. Fun fact: I don't reliably like the movies of any director, and I seldom agree with any film critic. Does this mean I'm autistic? Developing...

Mickey Mouse

Disney has a lot of clout. So you hear, and they are putting it all in service of America's belovedest icon. Apparently, American copyright protections keep getting pushed out further and further, by corrupt act of Congress, to make sure that Mickey Mouse will never enter the public domain. Interesting, if true, because it means that Mickey Mouse is the most unjustly fetishized cartoon character in history. As important to American culture as Coca-Cola, but why?

Mickey Mouse must have made a huge and traumatic impact on America in the 50's. That's the only way to explain the ancestral memory we have of him, because he hasn't been around lately. There haven't been any Mickey Mouse movies, except maybe direct-to-DVD videos that no adult watches. There aren't any Mickey Mouse cartoons on TV -- at least, there weren't when I was young enough to care, and if there are now, nobody has informed me.

Even in his heyday, what did Mickey Mouse do? As far as I can tell, he was just a foil to the also-not-interesting Donald Duck or Goofy or something. I only have *actual memories* of him from that Fantasia thing, although I'm sure he starred in lots of other one-reelers. But it's not like those were any good. Nobody ever talks about "that Disney cartoon where Mickey Mouse does so and so." You occasionally hear people talk that way about Warner Brothers cartoons, but I'm reasonably sure your average American couldn't identify one Mickey Mouse vehicle (other than Fantasia).

Does Disney still make much money from Mickey Mouse? I figured that most of their cash came from movie merchandise, like Snow White and Cinderella. Or from their theme parks like Disneyland (Question: What do you do at Disneyland? I know of one ride there, "Space Mountain". I do not know what Space Mountain is.)

When you think of it, Mickey Mouse is kind of extremely unloveable. Unless there's something I don't know, he's just the everyman, which is not a role that farcical cartoons should have. Everymen are dull. All his cartoon friends are boring too. I don't think Donald Duck, Daisy Duck, Goofy, Minnie or Pluto have a character trait among them. Presumably the constituency for Mickey Mouse is the same as for all those comic strips that you don't like, but which the newspaper reups year after year.

Come to think of it, I vaguely recall seeing a Mickey Mouse strip in the comics section of newspapers of cities I don't live in. Could *this* be where normal people get their Mickey Mouse fix? If so, I worry. Mickey Mouse comic strips are as dull as you would imagine. If that's all it takes to become a cultural icon, then my advice to Mort Walker is to guard your Hi & Lois trademark carefully, because bland humor can take you all the way to the top. In the year 2100, we'll all be as American as Hi & Lois and Tab Energy Drink.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

So What?

This is surely the least significant news item ever written up in the New York Times. Did they publish it because they thought someone would have fun making chinny-chin-chin jokes? Well not me, pal. I'll leave it for some other chump.

"He's a horse that wants to live"

Jesus Christ are we still talking about Barbaro, the suckiest horse in the world? The news story is that he was recovering (from his injury 7 months ago) but then he stopped recovering. Because he's a horse, people. Horses don't recover, even if you cut off their hooves and say things like, ''The only thing we care about is that he's not in pain.'' If that's true, then don't you have some kind of gun you can shoot him with? All you're going to do is put him out to stud, you know, and breed a bunch more wobbly-legged horses. Give me the money you're spending on him, and put me out to stud, and I'll make you proud.

It's your fault that I hate horses.

Update:



*Giggle* Barbaro we love you! I would pay money to know what that collage sign says.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Shh.

Do you know what that sound is? That's the sound of me having exactly as many entries on my blog as there are e-mails in my inbox. Four hundred and twenty-one. It's almost transcendent.

Nobody move. Nobody send me any e-mails. No blogging. Let's just breathe deeply and appreciate the moment.

iPhone

You will be pleased to know that it exists. Fun fact: Because of a branding error, the "I" in iPod stands for "internet."

Has anybody else noticed that all these products (which you know more about than I do) do the same thing? No, scratch that; they do almost all of the same things. There are portable devices that let you call people and play games, portable devices that let you call people and listen to music, portable devices that let you play games and watch videos -- it's like there are 10 entertainment options in the world, and each new iSomething picks 7 or 8 of them, like spending character points in an RPG.

Well, the iPhone seems to have gotten especially good rolls at the character-creation stage, because it does it all, from spotting traps and resisting magic to videos and something called "maps". At first, I thought the iPhone couldn't take photos, and that was its fatal flaw. But looking closer at the picture, I see that it does. It's just, we're all so bored with photos that Apple didn't need to mention it. Who cares, indeed.

In order to break the stranglehold that iPhones will soon establish over the market, the other manufacturers (or at least Apple, which doesn't actually seem to have any competitors) are going to have to come up with some more ways to entertain you. If your idea of a good time is playing games on the internet while text messaging photos to your e-pen-e-pal, then the iPhone is for you. Just try not to leave it on the roof of your car.

But what if you want more? It's not like there haven't been any new entertainment options since the zoeotrope. Up-and-coming mp3-player manufacturers, how about:
  • Switchblade
  • RC car
  • Defibrillator
  • Cigarette lighter
  • Ripcord-operated helicopter toy
  • Blood-sugar level reader
  • Plush toy
  • Status symbol

Monday, January 08, 2007

Legends of the Hidden Temple

Because we need to take our pleasure where we can find it, I've been watching children's game shows lately. Not just children's game shows, actually, but reruns of old children's game shows. It was bound to happen. The cost of starting a cable channel is so low, and the cost of producing a television show is still so high, that there is actually a channel, Nickelodeon Games and Sports, dedicated to rerunning old episodes of GUTS and Legends of the Hidden Temple. (They don't run ads, so I'm worried to think that Nick GaS's income is largely from the Ring Pops and BK sneakers prize spots.)

I can't overestimate how much fun these are. They work on so many levels. First of all, of course, there's the game show format itself, which is already the perfect way to coax people out of their shells and put their awfulness on display. But these are children's shows, which means that the contestants have both more ignorance and less shame than their adult contemporaries. Even if they don't know what a cutlass is, they're just going to throw their dignity to the winds and guess, so compelling are those Huffy bikes and Space Camp. It gets even better, because most of these shows have no penalty for guessing wrong. I guess this is ostensibly to avoid upsetting the little ones, but really, it just encourages them to throw out whatever jetsam they have in mind.

The emcees of the shows are wonderful too. Adult game show hosts are already pretty bubbly and embarrassing. But the children's hosts are obviously under contract to keep the contestants from crying. The lengths they go through to play down a wrong answer, or give obvious hints, or (in the sports-type game shows) talk about the loser as a "tough fighter" who "never gives up" are enough to make you sick with delight.

But we haven't even gotten to the best part. These shows are reruns. Nickelodeon was only founded in the late 80's, so it could be better, but the knowledge that you are watching people who were 10 years old in 1991 is thrilling. The people you see walking around the streets, just a little bit older than you, could be the kids you giggle at tonight. In case you're wondering why 25-year olds are so messed up, look no further. We don't get many opportunities to see real live footage of 80's kids, but they are on Nick GaS in their full glory. They know way more about Vanilla Ice than you probably ever did, and mullets, buzz cuts and feathered hair are everywhere. Even worse, most of the children wear aviator glasses, (Question: Why? Has any role-model ever worn aviator glasses?) making them look like the Future Child Molestors of America.

The lineup of these shows is disturbing, too. During the day, they seldom venture back more than ten years. But after midnight, they start to show the really old programs, the ones you only vaguely remember from your own youth. Like Nick Arcade, which capitalizes on the growing (dying) trend of arcade games to bring you a game show where you actually get to watch kids play rebranded Mortal Kombat and Pong. All of these game shows channel the zeitgeist, broken down in the way that a 8-year old would be likely to understand it. Sociology professors take heed.

I didn't have the nerve to venture still further back in time, because it was too late for me. But if I had, I'm sure the MC's would be gooier, the kids would be uglier, the production values would be lower, the remaining audience would be sketchier, and the good times would get even better.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Arabic Art

What a long way we've come since Cordoba. If you read the news about Iraq, you can't help seeing the photos of street protests. The protestors invariably carry these... pictures... of their favorite clerics, lovingly altered. You see this style everywhere, at least in Iraq, but it really comes out to shine at the protests. For instance:

Ugly

I can't find a better picture, because none of these posters are actually on the internet qua art. Apparently, Arabic art is not good enough for the worldwide web, so we only get to see it incidentally, as part of a news photo. I can't say I blame them. This stuff is hideous, and if Iraq survives 30 more years, Iraqis will doubtless feel about their art the way we feel about Andy Warhol. Less cocaine, guys.

What I would like to know, however, is how these posters are made. Photoshop is the obvious answer to a Western mind, but am I being condescending if I wonder whether that's the case? I suppose there are other options. Perhaps they are airbrushed, or even hand-painted. Whatever the means, I can't imagine any Iraqi being so deluded that he thinks it would look really super to retouch the background of a portrait in puke green, making it look like nothing less than al-Sadr's high school class picture. But then again, maybe Iraq's graphic designers are just shell-shocked. I doubt I could make anything better under the circumstances. In war, taste is the first casualty.

Friday, January 05, 2007

It's a Toilet-Training Thing

Ever since Al Gore happened, NPR has been all over the subject of global warming. This is good, I guess, because their previous focus on the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, while socially concious and all that, was grating. I feel bad for the victims of Hurricane Katrina. I'm poor. I vote for Democrats. What more do you want, NPR?

Of course, global warming is something of a "phenomenon" these days, but NPR's take on it is especially annoying. They like to do these human interest stories about brave citizens who are fighting global warming personally. They do that by, I don't know, having solar houses and riding bicycles and just being generally liberal.

I don't know why these people bother me so much more than other saving-the-world-all-by-myself's. I just know they do. Notice to the people of the world: You are not making a difference. Do you have any idea how many people 7 billion is? One man can't make a difference and this means you.

To tell the truth, I think all this anti-global warming activity is done in exactly the same spirit as buttons saying, "Don't blame me, I voted for McGovern." Seriously, all you liberals. Stop listening to your superego. He likes it when you do stuff, and so does Renee Montagne, but the rest of us are going to plug our ears and ramp up our carbon emissions.

Update: I forgot to mention! Last night, on NPR, there was a program about non-religious prayer. I didn't listen to discover what they were talking about, but boy, doesn't "non-religious prayer" just sound like something NPR would be discussing?

Wikipedia Sentence for Today

Or, how you know a movie is good:

"There are also half-naked snake women who serve to entertain the snakemen members of the wicked Snake Cult in Thulsa Doom's orgy chamber."

Someone on Wikipedia really, really liked Conan the Barbarian. I'm pretty sure all the dialogue in the movie is quoted at some point in this article. Which is not hard to do, mind you; there are half-hour stretches of the movie that consist of Arnold Schwarzenegger looking steely. I watched Conan last night, and you know what? It's really terrible. Don't watch it.

Illegal Downloads

I must be a bad internet user. I hear from the "old media", that illegal music downloads are ruining the music industry. (I hear from the libertarian old media that illegal music downloads are revitalizing the music industry. *Shrug*.) I have not, however, been able to illegally download music. Not that I've tried looking very hard, since most music isn't very good, but I have no idea how I would do it if I suddenly was pricked by the music bug.

Do you search Google for "illegal music downloads?" Is there some software you have to download, or some big semi-commercial website that everybody knows about but me? I don't download music, but I've tried, now and then, to download computer games. Except for the ones that have been released into the public domain, it seems like it can't be done. I suppose it's the same basic idea: Files that The Man doesn't want you to have, but you want anyway. Can someone out there give me some tips on illegal file downloading? I promise this is not a honeypot blog.

On a related note, you might want to look at this website. A bunch of unguarded music, right out there in the open. Some of it is pretty good. I'm not sure what Mr. Zander's angle is, but I also don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. It probably has something to do with the fact that this is a *youth* orchestra. The reviews on that page say they are adequate for "distracted listeners," and there's no listener more distracted than me, so go ahead and give some support to the 12-year old Asian violinists. They make you look bad!

So Many Unanswered Questions

Aww. He wanted to be like his hero Saddam. Or- or something.

I have no idea what's going on here. Let's leave it at that, and let's all be thankful that we don't have children.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Worst of 2006

Runner up: Tan bricks

It seems like every new housing development (each house with 2-car garage and detached 4-car garage) is made out of tan bricks. Now maybe tan bricks are cheaper. I don't know; all that red pigment in real bricks has to come from somewhere and cost something. But these are the kinds of houses that rich people have to live in, and the rest of us have to look at. Don't they want their houses to look good? Don't they think tan is a terrible color for anything? The pale mortar makes their houses look even more sick. And yet tan brick houses continue to gain ground on the red brick ones. I hope this trend reverses in 2007, but I'm not holding my breath.

Winner: Water

Seriously, how can people put this stuff in their bodies? Actually, water tastes better than some things people drink; better water than salty-licorice vodka. But the thing about water is, you're expected to drink so much of it. 64 ounces a day, they say, and if you can't choke them down, you're a moral failure. And it's not really enough to drink it. You have to like it. Some people claim that they never want anything but water. I'm not sure if they're lying, but they are disgusting.

Water tastes bitter. It's odd to think of such a simple chemical having a characteristic taste, but water honestly tastes bitter. Lots of people, as I say, like bitter things, but nobody likes them that much. Go ahead and eat 4 pounds of coffee beans a day, and see if you still want the staple of your diet to be bitter. Even worse, water is hypotonic. If you drink a lot of water -- enough to quench your thirst, for instance -- you are going to get a huge gastrointestinal problem as all that water leaches through your membranes and thins down your blood.

Yes, in prehistoric times people drank water. They had nothing better. In prehistoric times, people ate and drank whatever they could get their hands on, no matter how icky it really was. That's how it is when you're next to starvation, but in 2006 there was orange juice, Coca-Cola, root beer, apple cider and soda water. How about a New Year's Resolution, people? In 2007, don't drink water unless you're desperate, an ascetic, or a zoo animal. I think you'll find that life really can be wonderful.

Best of 2006

Runner up: Gelatin

How do you get normally liquid things, especially food, to stand up under their own weight? A puzzle, and most of the solutions are so unsatisfying. You can freeze them, if you're making ice cream or popsicles. But those things are cold. Have you ever noticed that no food is served below 32 degrees *unless* it would melt otherwise? Freezing cold food is unpleasant, and people only like ice cream for the cream. You can add stabilizers like pectin or agar-agar. Maybe it's just me, but both of those have horrible textures, like eating silicone.

Only gelatin can convert liquids to solids without any other undesirable effects. Add gelatin to your hot liquid food, cool it to room temperature, and your food is as stable as the Colossus of Rhodes. If you use too much gelatin, of course, your meal will taste a little like hooves, but that's your fault. I don't know any recipe, or conceivable recipe, where you would need that much gelatin. Gelatin, you are very versatile, but this is no time to rest on your laurels. For 2007, how about Jell-o shooters with fine liquors, gelatin as a structual element in buildings, or gelatin balls for children to play with.

Winner: Linen

I think linen is probably the most useful fabric. You can make smoother, tidier garments out of linen than you possibly could with cotton or wool. Silk is smoother and softer still, of course, but also much more fragile. You can't really iron or wash silk effectively, and water stains it. Linen, on the other hand, is extremely easy to iron. It's delightful and magical how pressing a wet, hot object to a linen sheet makes all the wrinkles vanish, all while smelling deliciously like warm plants.

Moreover, linen has a more interesting origin than most fabrics. Any idiot could look at a sheep or a cotton boll or even a woven cocoon and say, "I bet you could make clothes out of that." Who knew you could weave shirts from the inside of a little grassy flower? At first glance, you might as well try gluing together strands of hay. As if that weren't odd enough, flax has other wonderful properties. You can put flaxseeds in your eyes to flush the dust out of them. And flax has some of the only true blue flowers in the world. Here at Apk01004.blogspot.com, we appreciate unexpected plants, and that's why linen is my pick for Best of 2006.