Onion News Flashes: Genius.
Study: Nearly 80 Percent Of Roommates Got So Drunk Last Night
Friday, April 25, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
New Weezer
Weezer has a new album coming out, and it's going to be the third "colour" album in their catalog. This one's red.
Make Believe didn't do much to convince me that Weezer still had vast, untapped reserves of pop genius left, but the first single from the Red Album, "Pork and Beans", is pretty darn good. It's missing that feedbacky, lo-fi sound that made the Blue Album and Pinkerton so raw and kickass, but it's got big chunky guitars, lyrics about not being cool, and uber-catchy melodies. I give it a rating of four cardigans out of five.
It's not out in mp3 format just yet, but it is stream-able from the Weezer website. Check it.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Summer Music
It's 27 degrees and sunny outside, and it's time to break out the summer tunes. There is no currently accepted scientific method to determine whether a given song is "summer music" or not, but there are a few defining traits that are unassailable.
1 - Major key. For the most part, it's gotta be major. No sad, mopey minor key songs.
2 - Guitars. Electronic music is good and all, but in most cases it's just not summery enough.
3 - Suitability for porch or deck. This is non-negotiable. True summer music must be able to be put on in the background while sitting on a porch/deck/dock/land-dock. This requires a certain level of simplicity. I don't want to mosh, or get all pensive, or get lost in super-intricate arrangements while I'm eating a hamburger with my friends, you know?
4 - Road trip potential. Some songs are good deck music. Some songs are good for driving down the highway. Really great summer music is both.
The new Kooks album ("Konk")is an early pick for good summer music, especially the super-catchy vocal harmonies on "Love It All".
The Kooks - Love It All
Also, this dog is totally ready for summer.
1 - Major key. For the most part, it's gotta be major. No sad, mopey minor key songs.
2 - Guitars. Electronic music is good and all, but in most cases it's just not summery enough.
3 - Suitability for porch or deck. This is non-negotiable. True summer music must be able to be put on in the background while sitting on a porch/deck/dock/land-dock. This requires a certain level of simplicity. I don't want to mosh, or get all pensive, or get lost in super-intricate arrangements while I'm eating a hamburger with my friends, you know?
4 - Road trip potential. Some songs are good deck music. Some songs are good for driving down the highway. Really great summer music is both.
The new Kooks album ("Konk")is an early pick for good summer music, especially the super-catchy vocal harmonies on "Love It All".
The Kooks - Love It All
Also, this dog is totally ready for summer.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Legislating Science
There have been many recent accusations that policy makers in governments around the world have been ignoring science, resulting in ridiculous and dangerous policies. There is some truth to that. Quite a bit, actually. Biofuel policy is one of my biggest personal pet peeves right now, what with the massive spike in global food prices and the rapid depletion of one of the world's largest aquifers. But hey, at least all that biofuel solved our climate change problem!
Still, at least our current policy makers are only trying to ignore science. Back in 1897, the Indiana legislature went one step further, with Bill 246, also known as the Indiana Pi Bill. The full title of the bill is "A Bill for an act introducing a new mathematical truth and offered as a contribution to education to be used only by the State of Indiana free of cost by paying any royalties whatever on the same, provided it is accepted and adopted by the official action of the Legislature of 1897".
Let's just ignore that part about a mathematical truth to be used ONLY by the state of Indiana for the time being. Let's talk about what the bill actually contains.
There's a common legend surrounding this bill that says that it actually wanted to legislate the value of pi to be equal to 3, to make calculations simpler in Indiana. Sadly, this isn't actually the case, though the bill does use incorrect values for pi (for example, 3.2) a bunch of times. Fortunately, the actual content of the bill isn't any less ridiculous.
The bill contains a method for "squaring the circle", which is a hypothetical process whereby a compass and a straight edge can be used to reliably and precisely draw a square with the same area as a given circle. Sounds useful, I know. I'd want that kind of powerful knowledge exclusively for my state, too. There's just one problem: it's impossible to square a circle with a compass and a straight edge. In fact, it was irrefutably proven to be impossible 15 years earlier, by Ferdinand von Lindemann.
Fig. 1: Ferdinand - "Can't be done."
That didn't stop Edwin J. Goodwin (the architect of Bill 246), though. He bravely stepped outside the bounds of knowledge to show that circles could indeed be squared with a compass and a straight-edge, so long as you make a few minor adjustments to universal constants, and don't mind your answer being off by a factor of π/4.
With Goodwin as a model, all sorts of new possibilities arise. We could start by legislating a mandatory 100 year moratorium on sea levels rising. And, while we're at it, we should tack on a rider to change the properties of CO2 from "greenhouse gas" to "FUNhouse gas", because really, couldn't the world use a little more fun?
Still, at least our current policy makers are only trying to ignore science. Back in 1897, the Indiana legislature went one step further, with Bill 246, also known as the Indiana Pi Bill. The full title of the bill is "A Bill for an act introducing a new mathematical truth and offered as a contribution to education to be used only by the State of Indiana free of cost by paying any royalties whatever on the same, provided it is accepted and adopted by the official action of the Legislature of 1897".
Let's just ignore that part about a mathematical truth to be used ONLY by the state of Indiana for the time being. Let's talk about what the bill actually contains.
There's a common legend surrounding this bill that says that it actually wanted to legislate the value of pi to be equal to 3, to make calculations simpler in Indiana. Sadly, this isn't actually the case, though the bill does use incorrect values for pi (for example, 3.2) a bunch of times. Fortunately, the actual content of the bill isn't any less ridiculous.
The bill contains a method for "squaring the circle", which is a hypothetical process whereby a compass and a straight edge can be used to reliably and precisely draw a square with the same area as a given circle. Sounds useful, I know. I'd want that kind of powerful knowledge exclusively for my state, too. There's just one problem: it's impossible to square a circle with a compass and a straight edge. In fact, it was irrefutably proven to be impossible 15 years earlier, by Ferdinand von Lindemann.
Fig. 1: Ferdinand - "Can't be done."
That didn't stop Edwin J. Goodwin (the architect of Bill 246), though. He bravely stepped outside the bounds of knowledge to show that circles could indeed be squared with a compass and a straight-edge, so long as you make a few minor adjustments to universal constants, and don't mind your answer being off by a factor of π/4.
With Goodwin as a model, all sorts of new possibilities arise. We could start by legislating a mandatory 100 year moratorium on sea levels rising. And, while we're at it, we should tack on a rider to change the properties of CO2 from "greenhouse gas" to "FUNhouse gas", because really, couldn't the world use a little more fun?
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Hunger, Shame, Deliciousness
I finally did it.
I'd been contemplating it for weeks... months, even. Trying to reconcile the part of my brain that said "this is one of the most ridiculous endeavours in human history" with the part of my brain that said "yes, but I want one". I held out for as long as I could, nose turned snobbily up at those who couldn't resist. But on Friday, there it was. And I was weak.
I ordered a Baconator.
It's not my fault! I was hungry and disoriented. I was on my way to Toronto on Friday to play a show with Nich Worby and company, and we stopped for dinner at a rest stop along the 401 on the way there. I didn't have any other choice!
Ok, that's a lie, there was a Mr. Sub.
Regardless of sub availability, I queued up in the Wendy's line. Before I even looked at the menu, my heart knew it was time. My palms were a little sweaty, and my heart rate increased by a few beats as the person in front of me stepped aside, and I approached the till.
"I'll have a..." I started, then paused, looked nervously over my shoulder, and leaned in.
"Baconator", I whispered. I felt a little dirty saying it out loud.
The cashier punched in my order with the steady hand of someone who makes a living handing out trayfulls of pure, unfiltered consumer insanity on a daily basis. I, on the other hand, was having a hard time not giggling.
I got my tray, and picked it up. It sagged on the Baconator side. I paused to get a firmer grip, and hauled it over to a table. I hastily unwrapped it. Here is an approximation of the sight that greeted me.
Oh dear God, what had I gotten myself into?
At this point, I was glad this act wasn't premeditated. If it was, I probably would have looked up the nutrition information and found out that a single Baconator is home to 840 Calories and 51 grams of fat (and, interestingly enough, 25% of your RDI of calcium). Throwing caution to the wind, I dove in.
The verdict? It is exactly what it claims to be. A giant mass of beef and bacon, bonded together with heavily processed American cheese, and enough sodium to kill a horse. The bun is a technicality. In most situations, this monstrosity could only generously be referred to as real food. But every once in a while, even the best of us craves a fast food fix, and in situations like that, the Baconator can obliterate your meat craving like few other foods.
Overall, I would give it 4.5 out of 5 bypasses.
I'd been contemplating it for weeks... months, even. Trying to reconcile the part of my brain that said "this is one of the most ridiculous endeavours in human history" with the part of my brain that said "yes, but I want one". I held out for as long as I could, nose turned snobbily up at those who couldn't resist. But on Friday, there it was. And I was weak.
I ordered a Baconator.
It's not my fault! I was hungry and disoriented. I was on my way to Toronto on Friday to play a show with Nich Worby and company, and we stopped for dinner at a rest stop along the 401 on the way there. I didn't have any other choice!
Ok, that's a lie, there was a Mr. Sub.
Regardless of sub availability, I queued up in the Wendy's line. Before I even looked at the menu, my heart knew it was time. My palms were a little sweaty, and my heart rate increased by a few beats as the person in front of me stepped aside, and I approached the till.
"I'll have a..." I started, then paused, looked nervously over my shoulder, and leaned in.
"Baconator", I whispered. I felt a little dirty saying it out loud.
The cashier punched in my order with the steady hand of someone who makes a living handing out trayfulls of pure, unfiltered consumer insanity on a daily basis. I, on the other hand, was having a hard time not giggling.
I got my tray, and picked it up. It sagged on the Baconator side. I paused to get a firmer grip, and hauled it over to a table. I hastily unwrapped it. Here is an approximation of the sight that greeted me.
Oh dear God, what had I gotten myself into?
At this point, I was glad this act wasn't premeditated. If it was, I probably would have looked up the nutrition information and found out that a single Baconator is home to 840 Calories and 51 grams of fat (and, interestingly enough, 25% of your RDI of calcium). Throwing caution to the wind, I dove in.
The verdict? It is exactly what it claims to be. A giant mass of beef and bacon, bonded together with heavily processed American cheese, and enough sodium to kill a horse. The bun is a technicality. In most situations, this monstrosity could only generously be referred to as real food. But every once in a while, even the best of us craves a fast food fix, and in situations like that, the Baconator can obliterate your meat craving like few other foods.
Overall, I would give it 4.5 out of 5 bypasses.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Internet Comments
I'm always fascinated by the degree to which the internet enables communication of all types and qualities to thrive. There are whole blogs dedicated to puddles, for example. If you are a puddle afficionado, there has never been a better time to be alive.
The downside to this fast-and-easy communication is the proliferation of idiots on comment boards. Anyone who's ever scrolled down to read the comments below a YouTube video knows this all too well. YouTube might be the single biggest collection of asinine, moronic statements in the known universe.
It's not all bad though. Metafilter is a community blog that charges a one-time fee of $5 for the right to be able to post on its forums. The result is that most of the comments come from people who actually have something of interest to say, and real discussion of issues is actually possible.
Enter Thatsaspicymeatball. This site compiles the latest comments from Metafilter and YouTube on an hourly basis, then displays them side by side. The result is hilarious and sad at the same time. Here are some sample discussions.
Metafilter:
"The fact that we can't leave the Tibet thing alone long enough to watch the very symbol of a neutral playing field run past is pathetic."
"That little "Tibet thing?" Since 1950, an estimated 1.2 million Tibetans have been killed by the Chinese. Sorry, that's not a "thing" to me. I'll give up a "symbol" for those people."
Youtube:
"i love the song but hes kind of fat :D "
"STFU GAYS"
Wow.
(link courtesy of the Freakonomics Blog)
The downside to this fast-and-easy communication is the proliferation of idiots on comment boards. Anyone who's ever scrolled down to read the comments below a YouTube video knows this all too well. YouTube might be the single biggest collection of asinine, moronic statements in the known universe.
It's not all bad though. Metafilter is a community blog that charges a one-time fee of $5 for the right to be able to post on its forums. The result is that most of the comments come from people who actually have something of interest to say, and real discussion of issues is actually possible.
Enter Thatsaspicymeatball. This site compiles the latest comments from Metafilter and YouTube on an hourly basis, then displays them side by side. The result is hilarious and sad at the same time. Here are some sample discussions.
Metafilter:
"The fact that we can't leave the Tibet thing alone long enough to watch the very symbol of a neutral playing field run past is pathetic."
"That little "Tibet thing?" Since 1950, an estimated 1.2 million Tibetans have been killed by the Chinese. Sorry, that's not a "thing" to me. I'll give up a "symbol" for those people."
Youtube:
"i love the song but hes kind of fat :D "
"STFU GAYS"
Wow.
(link courtesy of the Freakonomics Blog)
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Elementary
I'm back from Japan, which means it's time to shift my writing output from "travelogue" to "interesting things of questionable usefulness".
To get the ball rolling again, check out this Periodic Table of the Elements Quiz. I got 56 elements on my first try, including one or two I'm pretty proud of. Neodymium. Booyah.
To get the ball rolling again, check out this Periodic Table of the Elements Quiz. I got 56 elements on my first try, including one or two I'm pretty proud of. Neodymium. Booyah.
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