Break time

It's Christmas Eve, and I am taking a well-deserved break... ok, just a break. I'll be back on the blogwagon in a week or so. In the meantime, I'll be checking Is it Christmas? in 11 mintues, just to confirm my suspicions.

Happy holidays!

Flags of Convenience

As a follow-up to the last post on Liberia and their disproportionately huge shipping fleet, I did a bit more digging on the subject of ship registration, and found some interesting things.

A ship registered in a country expressly for the purpose of taking advantage of weak or non-existent taxes, labour standards, etc. is said to be flying under a "flag of convenience". If Wikipedia is to be trusted, half of the world's shipping vessels are registered under these flags.

There are ships registered in just about every country you could think of, including 61 ships which sail under the flag of Mongolia (total shoreline: zero kilometres).


Fig. 1: A maritime paradise.

Now, you may be concerned that you're registering your ship with a country with no naval presence whatsoever, but that fear would be totally unfounded. Mongolia does indeed have a navy, which consists of (no joke) seven guys and a tugboat, which was hauled across the desert in pieces and assembled to patrol Mongolia's largest body of water, Lake Hovsgol... you know, just in case a neighbouring country decides to haul their own navy across the desert in pieces, and then assemble it, and then launch an attack on the other side of the lake.

The Daily Talk

Monrovia is an interesting place. As the capital of Liberia, it's the only non-US capital in the world named after a US president. Its biggest export is latex. It has no electricity distribution grid. It is the home port of approximately 15% of the global shipping fleet (giving it the second largest fleet in the world, behind Panama) despite the fact that almost none of those ships have ever been, or will ever be to Liberia. And, to top things off, its most widely read newspaper is a blackboard beside the highway.

The Daily Talk is an English-language news source run by Alfred J. Sirleaf on the side of Tubman Boulevard in Monrovia. Sirleaf started the board in an attempt to encourage a well-informed (and thus more democratically inclined) citizenry. Given the lack of daily print media, the Daily Talk is arguably the most important source of print news in the city, especially for the uneducated population that makes up the majority of Monrovia.



It's grassroots democracy in action, and you can be fairly sure the Daily Talk's voice is not being bought by corporate interests. He finances the entire thing on personal donations of cash and prepaid cellphone cards.



(details courtesy of the New York Times)

Showdown: Electric Cars vs. Internal Combustion

Electric car technology is arguably the best thing going right now in the effort to mitigate the environmental damage caused by personal vehicles... or is it? One common criticism of electric cars is that, given the fact that most of the world's energy comes from coal power plants, they're still technically relying on combustion. Which technology actually turns out to be better, with all environmental effects considered? Internal combustion or electric?

Slate has a neat article outlining the comparison of IC and electric cars, and they find that in pretty much every case, electric cars outperform conventional IC cars on the basis of pounds of CO2 emitted per mile. However, the margin by which the electric car wins depends significantly on where you live. In areas where hydroelectric, nuclear, solar, or wind power are significant parts of the mix, the electric car blows IC out of the water. If you live in a coal-powered region, not so much.


Fig. 1: Tesla Roadster. This car says "I care about the environment and also kick ass".

To put some numbers on it, the Slate article compares the Toyota Corolla and the Tesla Roadster, and finds that, per 100 miles, the Corolla emits 63.11 pounds of CO2, and the Roadster emits 48.05 pounds (based on average US power generation mix). That means that even when you take into account the emissions from the power plant, the Roadster only emits 75% as much CO2 as the Corolla (a relatively efficient IC car). While this may not sound paradigm-shifting, keep in mind that the Roadster itself also emits no exhaust whatsoever, which is pretty significant when you think about the kind of urban air quality issues that big cities are struggling with now as a result of IC cars.

Now, if only they could develop the technology to make all electric cars look as cool as the Roadster.


Fig. 2: This car says "I care about the environment, and wear rainbow suspenders."

Tree of Ténéré

The Sahara desert is the world's biggest desert, and it seems like it's getting bigger. Despite the fact that it's one of the most inhospitable places on earth, the Tuareg nomads have been roaming around in the Sahara for over two thousand years, running the trans-Saharan trade route with a lot of camels, and some really intimidating outfits.


Fig. 1: Do not mess with this guy.

The Tuareg's knowledge of the Sahara is so detailed that they don't actually consider it one desert, but rather Tinariwen, or "The Deserts". Of all the regions that make up the Sahara, the most desertified of all is the Ténéré. This is the Sahara people picture when they think desert. Hundred mile long sand dunes, scorching heat, and zero plant life.

Well, almost zero plant life. It turns out the Ténéré used to be lush, tropical forest a few million years ago. However, continents shift, climates change, and the next thing you know, you get demoted from jungle to desert. However, even in the wasteland of Ténéré, there was one plucky tree that wasn't willing to give in. The Tree of Ténéré was an acacia tree that was at one time held to be the world's most isolated tree, more than 400km from its closest neighbour. It managed to survive by sending roots down more than 100 feet to the water table. Now, if you're the Tuareg, and you're trying to run a trade caravan through more than 100,000 square kilometres of sand, a lone tree sitting out in the middle of nowhere is a pretty darn good landmark. The tree was so useful to the Tuareg that it was thought to be taboo to cut off any of its branches for firewood, despite the absence of any other wood for hundreds of miles.


Fig. 2: Tree.

You may have noticed me using the past tense for the Tree of Ténéré, and that is because it no longer exists. What befell this icon of perseverence in the face of adversity, this symbol of the indomitable spirit? It was hit by a drunk Libyan truck driver in 1973.

In his defense, he probably didn't have much room to avoid it.

To ensure the Tuareg could still use the location as a landmark for navigation, the tree was replaced with a metal sculpture, which probably now qualifies as the world's most isolated ugly sculpture.


Fig. 3: Blends right in.

Glow cats

Finally, science has found an answer to the question that has plagued mankind for centuries. Can cats be genetically altered to glow in the dark? Answer: yes!



...and not a moment too soon. Think of all the serious problems in the world - climate change, racial and religious conflict, the TV writers' strike... I'm pretty sure all of them could be solved with glowing cats. Thanks scientists!

Trebek Wisdom

In keeping with my secret candlelight vigil that I may or may not be holding for Alex Trebek, check out this great list of things Alex Trebek has come to realize over time. Here are some of my favourites, and I swear I made none of these up:

-You go to the Rockies and you stand there and you're looking up, saying, "Yep, that's impressive." And then you go to the Himalayas and you're like, "Oh, shit!"

-If you can't be in awe of Mother Nature, there's something wrong with you.

-Canada? Marvelous country.

-Give me a gun and put me near somebody who is just mean and I'll blow him away. No second thoughts about it.

-I don't gamble, because winning a hundred dollars doesn't give me great pleasure. But losing a hundred dollars pisses me off.

You can get anything on the internet, pt. 2

Today's installment of "Crazy Stuff You Shouldn't Be Able To Buy On The Internet, But Can" continues the theme of edible products that are probably not best purchased online.

Amazon currently has listings for fresh whole rabbit (fresh?), and Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl. oz.



The Tuscan Whole Milk seems to be getting some pretty good customer reviews though ("This whole milk is smooth and milky in consistency. Not at all gritty, chalky or sandy. An excellent purchase"), maybe I'll check it out after all.

An Open Letter

Dear Alex Trebek,

Please get better. I can envision a world without a Trebek-hosted Jeopardy!, and it's a cold, scary place.

Love,
Bryce

Traveller IQ

If you're anything like me, this world geography trivia thing will occupy at least the next hour of your day. I got stuck at level 10 a few times, mostly due to the fact that I consistently forget where the hell Andorra is. My current high score is 410,450. Bring it.

Droppin' beats... and knowledge

Our society has a long history of cartoon- and rock music-based education. If it weren't for Schoolhouse Rock, I'd still be largely in the dark about American History. Check out this take on the American Revolution. That George III is a real jerk!



A new company called Rhythm, Rhyme, Results is taking the Schoolhouse Rock idea into the 21st century with a series of educational raps. I was really hoping these would be hilariously bad, but I checked out "Demand, Supply", a hip hop synopsis of the 10 fundamental principles of economics, and I'll be damned if it isn't a little catchy.



The Freakonomics blog has the full lyrics posted, if you're interested in steppin' up yo education.

Absinthe

According to the New York Times, Absinthe is making a comeback.



Absinthe is a distilled liquor renowned for its booziness and supposed hallucinatory properties. The origin of its name is a variation on the Greek word for either "wormwood" or "undrinkable" depending, I suppose, on how much that particular linguist enjoys absinthe. It has been blamed for motivating many a crazy act, including Van Gogh cutting off his ear.

However, as with many nightmarish legends about alcohol, absinthe's psychoactive reputation can be traced back to prohibition. Or rather, the prohibition era belief that drunks were in the grip of some sort of otherworldly demon nectar that made them depraved, homicidal monsters with a craving for mayhem.

It turns out that there are no compounds in absinthe (including the oft-cited wormwood) that contain any psychoactive ingredients. The compound which has been blamed for wormwood's hallucinogenic properties, "thujone", was mistakenly deemed to be a hallucinogen in the 1970's as the result of some bad science.



So there you have it. If some dude drinks a bunch of absinthe, then claims to see dragons telling him to cut off his ear, he's probably just crazy. Hopefully once this knowledge becomes a little more commonplace, people will no longer feel curiously compelled to try absinthe, because seriously, it is some vile stuff.

Accordion Hero

Man, I wish this was real.

Win. At. Yelling.

In a somewhat disturbing case of life imitating art imitating life, December 15th marks the release of Brawndo, The Thirst Mutilator. If you haven't seen Idiocracy, this product bears some explaining.

Idiocracy is a "theoretical" take on a future 500 years from now in which dumb people take over the world. In this potential future, all water fountains are converted to dispense Brawndo, The Thirst Mutilator, on the basis of the fact that "It's Got Electrolytes". They also use it to water plants, because "It's what plants crave", except the salt kills all the plants. The whole point of that part of the movie is that energy drink marketing is all kind of dumb, and usually based on some questionable scientific claims.

And, of course, this is where the real world steps in and decides that there is a legitimate market for Brawndo... I feel like someone, somewhere has missed the point.

On the upside, their ad campaign seems to be pretty tongue-in-cheek, so maybe there is hope after all.

Get Out Of Jail Free

I was planning to keep up with some more interesting life cycle analysis showdown posts, but too many other interesting things have cropped up in the meantime. Also (believe it or not), very little academic discourse has taken place on the peanut butter vs. jelly debate. And we call ourselves a civilization...

Anyways, this post is about Monopoly. Monopoly and World War 2, to be specific.



As this article outlines in detail, the Germans didn't take very good care of their POWs during WWII, and were thus more than happy to accept Red Cross aid packages to make it look like they weren't TOTALLY ignoring the Geneva Conventions. The Brits were quick to realize this, and started filling the aid packages with a few extra diversions for the troops. One of the most interesting things they sent over were slightly modified Monopoly games. Why Monopoly? Well, it just so happens that John Waddington Ltd., the same company that held international distribution rights for the game, had perfected a method for printing maps onto silk sheets.

For the most part, the Red Cross Monopoly boards were the same as regular boards, except for a few extra innocent playing pieces, like the metal file and magnetic compass. The most useful modification was the inclusion of regional silk maps tucked into the game boxes themselves, complete with Allied safehouses marked along the optimal escape route. Since the Brits knew exactly where the packages were going, they were able to provide detailed maps of the surrounding areas to the troops on the receiving end. Ingenious!

But why silk maps? Paper maps are just fine, until you have to do anything sneaky with them. They're loud, tear easily, and don't hold up well to moisture. Silk maps, on the other hand, are stealthy and waterproof.



As a final touch, Waddington included some "upgraded" Monopoly money, including several different types of European currency, to help the escapees bribe their way to freedom. All in all, I'd say escaping from a Nazi war prisoner camp with secret tools hidden in a board game that was shipped in right under your captors' noses has got to be in the Top 10 Most Badass Things You Could Ever Do list.

(link courtesy of The Freakonomics Blog)

Showdown: Paper Towels vs. Hand Dryers

I ran a post a few weeks ago about Wine and Climate Change, which linked to an article that showed that if you live in eastern North America, it's more environmentally benign to drink imported French wine than Californian. I'm endlessly fascinated by life cycle analysis, so I decided I'd dig up a few more epic showdowns over the next few days. Today, the question that has plagued any environmentally-minded public restroom user: paper towels or hand dryers?

To answer the question, you need to consider everything from the energy required to make and transport the dryer or paper towel dispenser, the energy to harvest trees, pulp them, and turn them into paper (in the case of towels), and the energy required to run the machine (in the case of hand dryers). Fortunately, someone else has done all the dirty work, and it turns out that hand dryers are better than paper towels by a fairly hefty margin. Assuming an equal number of users who choose to dry their hands with either 2 paper towels or 30 seconds of drying, the 5-year impact of a
hand dryer is about 1.6 tonnes of CO2 emissions. The paper towels? 4.6 tonnes.


Fig. 1: The XLerator is the first hand dryer to be LEED certified due to its ability to dry hands in 10 to 15 seconds. It also sounds like a jet turbine, and is the only hand dryer I've ever used that's provoked the thought "is this going to leave a bruise?"

It should be noted that the superiority of hand dryers is pretty sensitive to your personal drying habits. If you can get by with 1 paper towel per use, that drops the impact of paper towels down to 2.3 tonnes. Also, if you happen to prefer more than 30 seconds of drying time, that could be enough to tip the scales in favour of paper towels. Bottom line, as usual: don't waste stuff.

Next up: peanut butter vs. jelly.

Gross National Happiness

As long as there have been countries, there have been governments concerned with how well their countries are doing. There are lots of ways of measuring this, but the standard method for seeing how countries stack up against each other, or against their own previous performance, is the Gross National Product, or GNP. The GNP is (more or less) the total sum of all the income accrued to the country and its residents in a given year.


This is all well and good, so long as you assume that income = cash = good things for everyone. To a certain degree, this holds true. When you have enough money for food and shelter, you are inarguably better off than when you didn't. However, things get a bit trickier once we've taken care of the fundamentals and we start talking about cash above and beyond what we need to survive. Will you be happier with that motorized tie rack or Robopanda? Maybe, but probably only until the novelty wears off, or your robot panda becomes sentient and decides to avenge the indentured servitude of the tie rack.

If more money doesn't consistently lead to more happiness, is there perhaps some other way we can gauge the success of a country? As usual, we can look to Bhutan for the answer. Wait... Bhutan?



Bhutan, a land-locked Himalayan Buddhist kingdom with a population of just under 700,000, has been the first country in the world to adopt Gross National Happiness as its official metric for national success. GNH is much more subjective than GNP, which can lead to some criticisms regarding its use as a comparative tool between different countries. That being said, since the government adopted the GNH instead of the GNP, the residents of Bhutan have consistently reported very high levels of happiness without the associated high levels of production and consumption that classical economics dictates would be necessary to achieve this.

Should we Canadians adopt Gross National Happiness as our new standard of measuring success? It's certainly not an idea without merit, but it turns out that if we want to emulate Bhutan's recipe for happiness, we should also probably eliminate cable TV and the internet.

1,000 Hits!

Hey folks. As of a few hours ago, this goofy little project has officially logged 1,000 hits (and almost 1,500 pageviews) since I started it about 2 months ago. Sure, we're still a ways away from challenging Google or Facebook for top spot in the pantheon of Canadian web popularity, but I'm pleasantly surprised that some people are as interested in obscure trivia and ridiculous news as I am. I will do my best to keep the neat stuff coming.

Interesting side note: A few days ago when I checked Alexa's traffic rankings out of curiosity, Google was the #1 site in Canada. As of right now (12:05am, Tuesday Nov. 27), Google is being beaten by Facebook. Any predictions for how long it'll take Google to make an offer to buy Facebook outright?

Conservapedia

Wikipedia is, in my opinion, one of the best things about the internet. Vandalism issues aside, it represents total information democracy, where every single person with internet access has the ability to contribute to our global knowledge base. Of course, the net result of a totally free information system is bound to be blatant liberally biased garbage... at least, according to Conservapedia, "The Trustworthy Encyclopedia".

That's right, there is an encyclopedia specifically run by and for conservatives. Rather than Wikipedia's obviously liberal attempts at "transparency" and "objectivity", Conservapedia doesn't pull any punches and tells it like it REALLY is. Liberal bias is a scourge that needs to be cleansed from the planet, whereas Conservative bias is actually more of a perspective, and perspectives are perfectly legitimate. Oh, also, there are lots of good reasons why the earth must be 6,000 years old.

Some other great entries include pants, and ostriches, which contains the following nugget of informational gold:

"The Bible mentions ostriches several times. Leviticus 11:13 states that is unclean and should not be eaten; Several verses describe the bird as laying "her eggs in the earth, and warm[ing] them in dust", going on to describe the ostrich as neglectful of its young (Job 39:14-17). however the chapter goes on to say that the ostrich at full speed "scorneth the horse and rider" - it cannot be outrun. (39:18)"

You heard it here first: ostriches are bad parents.

And what does an information-seeking Conservative do with a world of knowledge at their fingertips? Take a look at the top 10 most popular articles for some informative reading!

The Kaossilator

Korg has just released a brand new music-making device (is it an instrument? sort of... maybe) called the Kaossilator. It's small, and features three buttons, a knob, and a small touchpad. Somehow, they've managed to create a device that lets you use these fairly limited inputs to create crazy techno beats almost effortlessly. It's kind of hard to explain, but check out this video if you are in to weird noises and musical gadgetry. It's in Japanese, but you can still get an idea for the crazy possibilities of the Kaossilator. Also, how cool is the guy in the video? Answer: too cool.



Sold out in Japan, not yet available in North America... but you can bet I'll be keeping an eye out.

A Serious Complaint

I spent a few minutes trying to come up with a good summary of this audio clip, with witty social commentary but, as usual, I think reality has done a better job of commenting on itself than I ever could. Here's the gist: it's a voicemail message left on the customer service line at Jimmy Dean Sausage by a rather irate fellow. If I say more than that, I will just distract from the perfectly crafted ridiculousness that is the message itself. Seriously, listen to this.



Wow.

More tales of internet lobsters

Little did I know when I came across the new Sears Internet Lobster Extravaganza (iLobster? Lobster 2.0?) that it was merely one example of a wider internet-based lobster phenomenon.

Take Lobster Gram, for instance. This company claims to have been shipping live lobsters all over the continent since 1987 (presumably ordered over ARPANET, or some archaic form of paper-based long-distance communication). They offer live lobsters, lobster pasta, clams, scallops, filet mignon, and fish, all shipped through the mail. They claim it will be "the freshest seafood you've ever tasted in your life", assuming you associate fresh seafood with the taste of the inside of a FedEx box.

Their FAQ lists all sorts of wacky facts about lobsters (lobster blood is colourless until exposed to oxygen, when it turns blue; a lobster's teeth are in its stomach), as well as some real hard-hitting environmental questions... "Does pollution kill lobsters? Yes, so don't pollute!"

It doesn't address the question "Why on Earth would I eat lobster that's been shipped across the country by the same company that can't seem to ever deliver packages when I'm at home?" but it sort of tangentially approaches the issue with the question "My lobster gram didn't arrive alive... what do I do?" Well, first they suggest that you confirm that it is indeed not alive. Their recommended method: poke it in the eye. Then, regardless of the outcome, they suggest you cook it and try it out. Mmm, questionable box lobster.

But that's not all! If you don't like the cut of Lobster Gram's gib, you've always got Sears, or Lobster Deals, or Lobster Delivery... heck, even Amazon sells lobsters!

Truly, this is a golden age.

Star Guitar

After some discussion of great music videos this past weekend, I think I'm convinced that the video for The Chemical Brothers' "Star Guitar" is one of the best videos I've seen. The concept is pretty simple - a train's travelling across the countryside, and all the scenery out the window syncs up with the song. The idea of music visualization isn't really groundbreaking, but what's really impressive is the seamlessness with which it's pulled off. It's smooth enough to make you think that the train just happens to be passing a bridge every four beats. From now on, I think our urban planners and architects should only design landscapes that sync up with techno songs.



The YouTube version above is pretty low-res, but it gets the point across. This Google Video version is a bit crisper.

Country Names

I was reading the Wikipedia entry for East Timor today (which should give you some idea of how hard I was trying to procrastinate), and discovered that "Timor" is derived from the Indonesian word for "east", officially making the country's name "East East". In that spirit, I did a bit of digging to find some other great country name origins. Here are some interesting ones.

Brazil - actually named after the brazilwood tree, and not vice versa

Colombia - named after Christoper Colombus, who never once set foot in the country

Greenland - name given by Eric the Red to attract settlers, presumably after "Really-Cold-And-Covered-With-Snowlandia" failed to get them the kind of interest they'd hoped for

Namibia - "area where there is nothing". These folks need to get a hold of Greenland's PR firm

Iran - "land of the free"... more or less...

Niue - a New Zealand territory whose name means "Behold the coconut"

Technology, and its many uses

You can now order lobster online... from Sears.

The internet is weird.

Waking up

I am not usually enthused about waking up. Beds are very comfortable and warm compared to the alternative (not being in bed). My alarm clock certainly isn't doing anything to help the situation, since my brain now associates waking up with an ear-splitting, speaker-crackling siren that I'm sure was appropriated from cold war era nuclear air raid sirens. Sometimes, to try and spruce things up a bit, I'll wake up to CFRC, and Queen's very own Indie Wake Up Call.

The problem with the Indie Wake Up Call (a daily morning show from 8-10am) is that the DJs focus on playing "good" music. That is to say, for the most part they play music with strong artistic merit. Here's my beef... In a lot of indie music cases lately, artistic merit means subtle, understated production and haunting melodies. That does not wake me up. I need infectious melodies and raucous beats. Basically, I need Daft Punk to wake me up every day.

However, last week, some visionary DJ (sorry CFRC folks, I don't remember what day it was) played what might be my new ultimate wake-up song - My Rights Versus Yours, by the New Pornographers. Artistically credible, upbeat, unstoppably catchy without being abrasive, this is a song that says "Hey, it's morning, and you are going to wake up and attack the day with limitless energy and optimism! Get the hell out of bed, you are wasting time!" Give it a listen. I defy you to not be motivated.

My brain just turned inside out

When you hear the phrase "20 minute video about geometry", you may not subsequently associate it with words like "riveting", or "mind-blowing". The following video might change your mind.

Here's the premise: it is geometrically possible to turn a sphere inside out without tearing or creasing it. It's certainly not simple, however, and the method that geometers use to do it is incredibly clever. Seriously, it borders on witchcraft. If you're into geeky math visualizations, I strongly recommend this video. If you don't have 20 minutes, just watch the first 2. Crazy stuff goes down.



(link courtesy of kottke.org)

Invasive Species

Earlier this month, CBC's The Current ran a story about the Gulf of Mexico's massive dead zone, an area about the size of Israel (22,000 sq km) that's completely devoid of oxygen as a result of nutrient runoff from the Mississippi river. It seems that since the fish in the area died off, the dead zone has been invaded by massive colonies of jellyfish. Apparently there are huge jellyfish blooms invading dead zones all around the world, including some truly terrifying giant jellyfish that have taken over the waters off the coast of Japan, which can apparently grow to be as big as a car and weigh up to 500 pounds.


Just to restate that: Giant Jellyfish are attacking Japan.

The story got me wondering about other interesting invasive species, and as usual, Wikipedia was there for me. Here are my picks for the invasive species with the most intimidating names:

Yellow Crazy Ant. This little guy is a fairly typical ant, except for two things. First, if you poke it, it freaks out (hence the name). Second, it forms regular ant colonies under ALMOST all circumstances, and hives compete with each other for food. Every once in a while, though, the hives will decide to cooperate and form SUPERCOLONIES, where the ants stop fighting with each other and instead turn their efforts towards total ecosystem domination, taking down other insects, small mammals, crabs and birds with their ridiculous numbers and acidic venom. Do not mess with the crazy ant.

Dog-Strangling Vine. I think the name says it all.

Sudden Oak Death. I am glad I'm not an oak.

On the other hand, there are some invasive species names that fail to incite the same level of fear. I don't think I'll be losing any sleep worrying about invasions of Chinese mitten crab or the air potato.

Wine and Climate Change

A study has just been published that examines the carbon emissions of the wine industry, specifically in the US.

Some of the conclusions are fairly obvious, for example:

• Tetra Paks and boxed wine have lower carbon intensity due to lower weight
• When glass bottles are used, bigger containers are less carbon intense (since the glass-to-wine ratio is lower)
• When oaking, using oak chips is better than oak barrels (especially when said barrels are shipped to the vineyard assembled and empty)

Some of the other findings are a lot more interesting. Especially this one:

There’s a “green line” that runs down the middle of Ohio. For points to the West of that line, it is more carbon efficient to consume wine trucked from California. To the East of that line, it’s more efficient to consume the same sized bottle of wine from Bordeaux, which has had benefited from the efficiencies of container shipping, followed by a shorter truck trip.

Here's the "greenline" described. People to the west are better off drinking Californian wine, people to the east are better with European wines (from a carbon standpoint, ignoring locally grown wines).



I'm always blown away by how much more efficient container shipping is when compared to trucks. The difference is something like a factor of 25 (!). As a side note, the implied conclusion that we eastern North American residents should drink more french wine is one of the best academic findings I've read all year.

Norman Mailer, 1923-2007

American author/journalist/hipster Norman Mailer died on Saturday, November 10th. It would have been kind of fitting if the man who wrote The Naked and The Dead, one of the most critically acclaimed novels about the experience of Allied WWII soldiers in Japan, had died on Remembrance Day, but I'm guessing he didn't have much say in the matter.

While The Naked and The Dead was his first major success, he wound up being much more successful as a journalist, and won two Pulitzer Prizes for non-fiction. One of his more influential non-fiction works is a 1957 essay called "The White Negro", in which he pretty accurately forecasts the "youth revolution" of the 60's, as well as predating the nihilism of early punk by a solid 20 years. He also discusses the subculture of "the hipster" at length, and makes some interesting predictions about the future of the hip.

I have jotted down perhaps a dozen words, the Hip perhaps most in use and most likely to last with the minimum of variation. The words are man, go, put down, make, beat, cool, swing, with it, crazy, dig, flip, creep, hip, square.

Not exactly a perfect prediction, but quite a few of his predicted terms are still hanging around. I can dig it. The rest of the essay's a pretty interesting snapshot of American youth right on the brink of cultural revolution, and an interesting bit of perspective on the hipster's place in history.

24, circa 1994

I feel like posting videos is kind of slacking in the world of blog posts, but I can't not post this clip of the rare, seldom aired 1994 pilot for 24.

"Dammit George! You picked up while I was doing internet!"

Edit: Can't get the clip to show up nicely, so the link will have to suffice.

Pet Terrifying Machine

The market for pet grooming in the US is something like $3 billion per year (that's for pet grooming alone... the total pet industry is worth something like $40 billion per year), so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that some of those grooming accessories are completely insane.

This one made the rounds on the news a few days ago as one of those "isn't life wacky?" clips they show at the end of the news to make it seem like they don't only focus on terrible things happening. They seem to have neglected to notice the fact that this automated pet groomer is nightmarish. Can you imagine being a cat or dog in this thing? Your owner casually tosses you into a cold metal box and locks the door, at which point you hear a bunch of electronic beeping before being BLASTED WITH WATER AND CHEMICALS from all directions. When will it stop? You don't know, you are a cat. A device like this can only have come from the mind of someone with a grudge against pets.

The first half is in french, but the really crazy part is the second half, in which a cat freaks out.

Superhero Surgeries

I had a conversation last week about reconstructive surgery, and how it's strange that no one has jumped on the idea of improvement-based surgery. In other words, how come I can get my knee fixed if it's broken, but I can't get some doctor to tweak my knees to give me superhuman jumping abilities? It seems like there'd be a huge market for that. I, for one, would definitely opt for super jumping, and I'm sure there are tons of musicians who would be interested in ultra-fast fingers.

Well, it turns out there are a variety of procedures that can enhance the human body beyond our boring, regular abilities (link courtesy of Mental Floss). Specifically, you can add several mph to your throwing speed, increase your flexibility, and (with some added peripherals) develop supersensitive, directional hearing. Hooray for science!

Aqua Regia

I've been reading more than a few things about chemistry lately, in an effort to assist with a chemistry class while not appearing wholly incompetent. Of the many chemical compounds I've come across in the last few weeks, the most interesting substance has to be Aqua Regia.

For starters, it has a cool name (translation: Royal Water). Way cooler than things like "regular water", or "Deuterated 1,1-difluoro-2,2dihaloethyl difluoromethyl esters". Secondly, it's produced by mixing concentrated nitric and hydrochloric acids together in a beaker until they start to fume, bubble and turn orange. Awesome.

Also, by virtue of the way the two acids in the mixture behave, it's one of few compounds that is able to dissolve gold and other precious metals (which led medieval alchemists to give it its colourful name).

The most famous use of aqua regia involves Hungarian chemist George de Hevesy during World War II. He was in Denmark when the Nazis invaded. Knowing that the Nazis had a habit of helping themselves to any gold they came across, George came up with a way of ensuring the safety of two gold Nobel Prize medals, belonging to fellow scientists Max von Laue and James Franck. He whipped up some aqua regia and dropped the medals in, dissolving the gold into solution. He then placed the vials with the remaining liquid on a shelf with many other unlabelled chemicals. Surely enough, the Nazis came through and ignored the seemingly worthless chemicals sitting on the shelf. When they finally left, George precipitated the gold and sent it back to the Nobel Committee who recoined the prizes and returned them to von Laue and Franck.

Take that Nazis, you got out-scienced!

All the king's horses

Today's major realization: Humpty Dumpty is a ridiculous rhyme.

Consider the following: Humpty Dumpty climbed up what we can only assume is a fairly high wall, lost his balance and fell off, shattering upon impact with the ground. The King, in an effort to maintain his kingdom's anthropomorphic egg quota, orders his horses and men to reassemble him, but they are unsuccessful.

Now, consider this: are we, the reader, supposed to be surprised that a bunch of horses couldn't reassemble an egg? They have hooves. The men probably could have done a decent job, but the horses would keep busting in trying to help, but inadvertently smashing Humpty into smaller pieces. The King needs better team management skills.

Also, check out this awesome picture of a horse.

Science used to be cool

Maybe it's for the best that we, as a society, have been steadily increasing our awareness of health and safety issues, as well as our environment. Less people get hurt, and we're not quite so reckless about destroying our natural resources (note: we're still pretty reckless).

On the other hand, we can't do stuff like this anymore.



"What should we do with this 20,000 pounds of surplus sodium from World War 2?"

"Might as well just throw it in the lake, I guess."

Wax Mannequin

Last week, The Grad Club put on a great show featuring Spiral Beach and Wax Mannequin. Spiral Beach was the headliner, but I was mostly there to see Wax Mannequin, and he did not disappoint.

Wax Mannequin is actually just one dude (real name: Chris Adeney) from Hamilton, Ontario. He's been through Kingston a few times, but I'd never heard his music until I caught one song on CFRC a few weeks ago, at which point I became very interested in seeing this guy live.

His music is pretty unique and very creative, but sort of hard to describe... some of the best efforts at describing his style use phrases like "Tom Waits fronting a viking metal band" or "a rock opera exploding inside your brain". Those are both pretty good descriptors. If "over-the-top" were a genre, this would be it. Judging from the super-intense rock drumming, prog guitar riffs, and gruff high-drama vocals, I think this is probably love-it-or-hate-it music, but since my musical tastes lean pretty heavily towards eclectic craziness, I love it.

Also, the Wax Mannequin MySpace bio is the best rock band biography I've ever read. Here it is, along with the picture referenced therein.

Do you know the painting that you see on some greeting cards where all of the animals are sitting together, stoic and proud in the forest, and there in the background, rising in the sky, it's the earth? You have to ask “why aren't the animals trying to fight and eat each other? They are fucking enemies!” and “why is the earth rising into the sky? If the earth is in the sky, then where the fuck are we?” That shit is Wax Mannequin. Kind of lame... but so important and gripping.

Worst Movie Scenes of All Time

These are pretty great, it's the top six worst movie scenes of all time, featuring such categories as "Worst Stunt" and "Worst Acting Ever". The stunt is my favourite, that dude is one excellent horse rider.


http://view.break.com/295152 - Watch more free videos

A useful tool

Is it Christmas?

(link courtesy of Laura A.)

In Event of Moon Disaster

I've spent the better part of the last week watching The West Wing, Season 1, to which I've become hopelessly addicted. As a result, I've also been much more interested in all things presidential lately.

With that in mind, I found this speech very interesting, in a morbid, what-could-have-been kind of way. It's titled "In Event of Moon Disaster", and it was written by presidential speechwriter Bill Safire on July 18, 1969. The speech was intended to be read by Richard Nixon in the event that Neil Armstrong and Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin made it safely to the surface of the moon, but found themselves unable to leave.

Aside from being a fascinating snapshot of the White House's inner workings during one of the United States' most ambitious ventures, it makes me wonder... how many other worst-case-scenarios does the US have speeches ready and waiting for?

The Most Serene Republic

This Wednesday, The Most Serene Republic is playing the Ale House, along with Dragonette, for $12. Based on the MySpace clips of their new album (one-word review: awesome), and how much I enjoyed them the last time they were in Kingston (playing with local legends and media darlings Fat Robot), this could be one of the best sub-$15 shows of the year. Broken Social Scene + Prog Rock + Jazz = The Most Serene Republic.

If you're in Kingston and want to go, let me know. We'll rock out.

A Monument to Ridiculousness

I can't remember who pointed me to this, but the Ryugyong Hotel in Pyongyang, North Korea is one of my favourite buildings in the world. Not because of engineering achievement, or architectural beauty... as a matter of fact, it's one of the ugliest buildings I've ever seen, and was horribly engineered. Nope, the Ryugyong makes my favourite buildings list for its unrivaled combination of audacity and ineptitude.

The story goes something like this: In the late 1980's, North Korea was starting to get jealous of South Korea's increasing prosperity and shiny skyscrapers, so the government decided it was going to outdo them, and commissioned the construction of a Super-Hotel. The Hotel To End All Hotels! 105 stories of communist glory, with five... no, six! No, SEVEN revolving restaurants! Seriously, seven revolving restaurants. When finished, it would have been the tallest hotel in the world, with three THOUSAND rooms. Three thousand rooms in one building, for a country that only lets in about 130,000 visitors a year, nationwide.

Alas, no one ever got to spend their luxurious North Korean vacation in the Ryugyong, because it was never finished. For starters, the building was so massive, concrete shortages plagued the construction from day one. Secondly, it was such a huge building that its construction actually contributed to electricity shortages in Pyongyang. I'm guessing it is hard to build a 105 story hotel without power tools. Finally, the concrete that they DID get was so poor that once the whole concrete frame was poured, the building began to sag under its own weight. All this for the low, low price of SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS. This, in a country with a food shortage. As a result of the sagging, the building needed $300 million in repairs, which the government didn't happen to have lying around. And thus, the world's biggest almost-hotel was born. Here's what the building looks like as of today, which is basically how it looked when it was abandoned in the 80's, with one lonely crane forgotten on the roof.


Fig. 1: Ridiculous.

Seriously, THAT was your design for a world-class hotel, North Korea? It looks like a giant cartoon supervillain lair.

One of the best parts of the whole story is the fact that the government was so embarassed by its failure that it essentially forbid people from talking about the tower. It gets airbrushed out of official photos of Pyongyang. It's not on any maps. There have been reports of people asking tour guides questions about it. Questions like "What's with that giant concrete pyramid over there?" typically receive responses like "What giant concrete pyramid?". In their defence, it is kind of hard to spot.


Fig. 2: I don't see it.

With some perspective, Vegemite is not so bad

I was discussing Vegemite earlier today, and was directed to this article detailing how it is supposedly banned in the US because of FDA laws that only allow folic acid in bread. It turns out, however, that no such ban is in place, and the Kraft spokesperson cited in the article was wrong. Well, according to the Wikipedia article on Vegemite, anyways.

I started to do a little digging around to see if I could get to the bottom of what Vegemite is, exactly (sure, it's a "brewer's yeast extract", but what exactly does that mean?). What I came across next was so shocking it made me completely forget about my Vegemite-based curiosity.

Behold, the edible monstrosity that is... Bovril.



This little culinary gem is described as a "thick, salty beef extract". And if that doesn't instantly get your mouth watering, you might be interested to know it was originally marketed under the name "Johnston's Fluid Beef".

Mmm, fluid beef.

Apparently it's quite popular in Britain as a sort of meat-based tea, especially at soccer games. Yum. Apparently many, many British people enjoy their meat-tea... check out this interesting tidbit, courtesy of Wikipedia:

Bovril was based in Argentina, and at the height of the Bovril empire, the company owned ranches in Argentina that were equivalent in size to half of England and sustaining over 1.5 million livestock.

Equivalent to half of England! Oh, also, Bovril ads are some of the craziest things I've ever seen. Check out these marvels of persuasive advertising:



Nothing gets my appetite going like thinking about exactly how the cow in my meat-tea was killed. Or, for those of you who prefer to consider your meat on a more personal level:



And finally, perhaps the most ridiculous ad I have ever seen:



That's right, the only two infallible powers in the world are the divinely appointed representative of God on Earth, and meat-tea.

Heat Vision and Jack

This has been floating around for a while now, but I just rewatched it, and it is too good to not post. If you're apprehensive about committing half an hour to a Youtube clip, let me just put the premise out there and let you decide for yourself: It is the story of Jack Black as a superintelligent rogue astronaut, with Owen Wilson as the voice of his talking motorcycle.

New Weezer/Rivers Cuomo

Rivers Cuomo has a sort-of-new album coming out in December. I say sort-of-new because it's actually a compilation of acoustic demos recorded between 1992 and 2007.

I'm pretty excited about it, mostly because of the huge timespan it encompasses. As much for academic interest as for musical curiosity, I'm interested to see how the Rivers Cuomo Songwriting Style has evolved with the times. Maybe we'll be able to pinpoint the exact moment when Weezer switched from being a songwriting superpower to a forgettable pop-rock band.

Speaking of which, Weezer (the whole band) has a new album coming out next year, and the band claims that it's a daring and experimental record. I really want it to be awesome, but the last few albums have me wondering whether I should still be excited about Weezer, or if it's going to be another album of Beverly Hills. Time will tell.

So you think you can prance?

Upon watching the following video, I had three thoughts:

1 - That dog is very, very impressive.
2 - That is kind of sad.
3 - I am worse at dancing than a dog.

How do I take my tea? Standardized.

Today marked the release of a CP article extolling the virtues of tea, and its ability to help prevent Alzheimer's and Parkinsons disease. This is the latest in a seemingly endless parade of recent studies which claim that tea consumption can do pretty much anything. Currently, the literature seems to indicate that tea will improve your memory, densify your bones, shield you from cancer, help you lose weight, make you more attractive to the opposite sex, and allow you to jump slightly higher than usual.

The catch with all these studies is that the positive effects are only statistically significant with fairly high consumption levels, on the order of 3-5 cups per day. My initial reaction was "Sweet, an excuse to consume more caffeine". But then I wondered, what exactly constitutes a "cup"? Are they talking one Imperial cup? Does my large Tea Room Hojicha count as one cup? Two? Four? Man, healthy tea consumption is hard.

ISO Standard 3103 to the rescue! Yes, there is indeed an international standard for the brewing of tea. Not only that, but the standard even allows for "Large" (380ml) and "Small" (200ml) cups of tea! Furthermore, a large cup of tea should be presented in a serving vessel weighing 200g (±20g), while small cups should weigh 105g (±20g). In addition, cups or bowls must be white or glazed earthenware. Finally, it should be ensured that a ratio of "2 grams of tea (measured to ±2% accuracy) per 100ml boiling water" is used. 2% accuracy! ISO3101 is a ruthless taskmaster.


Fig. 1: Scientifically admissible tea vessels.


Fig. 2: I can't even begin to describe how wrong this is.

Acoustic Kitty

The Cold War was a great motivator for innovation. Cold War research was responsible for such useful research developments as the microwave oven, GPS, and the integrated circuit. And then, there's Acoustic Kitty, a covert CIA research project designed to train cats - cats with implanted microphones, that is - to conduct espionage.


Fig. 1: Normal cat. Suspect nothing.

The Wikipedia entry is so great, I'm just going to let it speak for itself (emphasis added).

Acoustic Kitty was a CIA project launched in the 1960s attempting to use cats in spy missions. A battery and a microphone were implanted into a cat and an antenna into its tail. Due to problems with distraction, the cat's sense of hunger had to be removed in another operation. Surgical and training expenses are thought to have amounted to over $20 million.

The first cat mission was eavesdropping on two men in a park outside the Soviet compound on Wisconsin Avenue in Washington, D.C.. The cat was released nearby, but was hit and killed by a taxi almost immediately. Shortly thereafter the project was considered a failure and declared to be a total loss.

I wonder why the cat was so quick to get hit by a car? Maybe because they surgically removed its sense of hunger.

Indexed

My great dorky find of the month for October has to be Indexed, a regularly updated site featuring witty index cards and mathematical notation, as applied to everyday life.

Some examples:





Also, sometimes there are Venn diagrams. Sweet.

Turkey is perfect, no more questions.

There are some interesting things a-happenin' with our friendly neighbour (or "neighbor", if you will) to the south this week. Most interestingly, Al Gore won a Nobel Prize, and the US House of Representatives has finally acknowledged the mass killings of Armenians in Turkey, which took place from 1915-1923, as genocide.

I was intrigued by the genocide acknowledgement mostly because of the response it provoked from Turkey. Apparently, the ethnic killing of hundreds of thousands (maybe even up to 1.5 million, depending on who you talk to) of Armenians is a bit of a sore spot, and they'd kindly ask that you not bring it up, thank you very much. They're so enraged, there's talk of them backing out of their currently friendly agreement that allows US forces to pass through Turkey on their way to Iraq.

This all seems a little ridiculous to me, especically given how long ago the genocide took place. Does the Turkish government think it can eventually convince the rest of the world that it wasn't genocide? It's not like they're denying the killings; there's too much documentation to get away with that. Rather, what they're arguing against is the specific use of the term "genocide". I guess there's some other term they'd rather use for the systematic elimination of a race of people.

For a country jockeying for a position within the EU, Turkey doesn't seem very committed to getting its human rights record cleaned up. In fact, as recently as 2005, they were enacting laws like the infamous Article 301, which states: "A person who, being a Turk, explicitly insults the Republic or Turkish Grand National Assembly, shall be punishable by imprisonment of between six months to three years."

Because, as we all know, the best way to solve a nation's problems is to pretend they don't exist, thus solving the problem forever.

Aesop Rock

I've been listening to Aesop Rock almost constantly for the last few weeks. I've had some of his tunes kicking around my computer for a while, but never really invested the time to get familiar with them until recently. I feel like an idiot for not listening to them earlier.



On the surface, it's underground hip hop, with quirky beats and incredibly articulate vocal delivery. Once you start listening to the lyrics themselves, though, it gains a whole other dimension. He takes a very stream-of-consciousness approach to writing, and the result is sort of like the hip hop equivalent of impressionism. You can get a pretty good feel for the ideas he's laying down by listening to the whole, but if you try to pick apart individual lines to squeeze literal meaning out of them, it all becomes kind of nonsensical. Every once in a while though, he drops great straightforward lines that stand out all the more as a result of the abstractness of the rest of the lyrics. It's a wicked awesome combination of literary delivery and unstoppable flow.

The best example of his lyrical style is the "Daylight/Night Light" song pair. The first song has a sort-of-melancholy feel to it, but seems kind of optimistic at times. Nightlight, on the other hand, is Daylight's evil twin. The lyrics are almost identical, but where Daylight is optimistic, Night Light is negative and furious. Listening to them consecutively makes for a pretty cool effect. Best lyric pair:

Daylight: "I'll lay my boots to rest when I'm impressed, so I triple knot 'em and forgot 'em".
Night Light: "I'll lay my kicks to rest when I'm impressed, so I'll staple gun 'em to my face."

Intense.

Toynbee Tiles and Markovian Parallax

Today's theme is "weird mysteries".

First off, the case of the mysterious "Toynbee Tiles". These tiles of unknown origin have materialized in several major US cities and South American capitals, embedded in asphalt. Most of them contain a similar crypic message, along the lines of:

TOYNBEE IDEA
IN KUBRICK'S 2001
RESURRECT DEAD
ON PLANET JUPITER.

Uh, yeah. No one knows who's responsible for these tiles or what, if anything, the message means. Perhaps the most mysterious tile is one in Santiago de Chile that references a street address in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The couple who live at the address in question don't know anything about the tiles, and apparently get quite annoyed when people ask. Legitimate response, or crazy conspiracy coverup?


Figure 1: Toynbee Tile embedded in crosswalk


Mysterious internet thing number two is the "Markovian Parallax Denigrate", a cryptic series of messages that got posted to Usenet in 1996. Like the Toynbee Tiles, no one has been able to figure out what the post means, if it means anything at all. There are a few strange indications that it might be something more than random words, though... The person listed in the "From" field, Susan Lindauer, was arrested for conspiracy to commit espionage in 2004. Could the words in the Markovian Parallax Denigrate posts be some kind of secret spy code? Mysterious!

Thanksgiving trivia

I'm feeling festive, and yesterday's turkey-themed trivia round at The Grad Club got me thinking about Thanksgiving-related info, so I dug up a few interesting tidbits for the weekend:

-The first official Thanksgiving celebration in North America was Canadian (take that, USA!). It was celebrated in Newfoundland in 1578. As noted on the Wikipedia entry, though, that is a bit of a Euro-centric fact, since Native American cultures had probably been celebrating informal harvest-time festivals for quite a while before Martin Frobisher showed up and put a name on them.

-Tryptophan, the chemical compound in turkey widely held to cause drowsiness, is probably getting a bad rap. While it is present in turkey, the concentration isn't much different than most other meats. The most likely culprit of the post-meal coma: stuffing your face with food until you can barely move. A little wine certainly doesn't help the alertness, either.

-At the end of "Strawberry Fields Forever", John Lennon repeats the same thing over and over, which some conspiracy theorists (who claim Paul McCartney died in 1966) interpret as "I buried Paul". The actual lyric is "Cranberry Sauce".

-Wikipedia's entry on cranberry sauce has the following to say about it's sauce status: "Despite being called a sauce, cranberry sauce is most often consumed as a food itself, not as a garnish for other food items (a fact which has confused generations of American children)." Apparently, American children confuse easily.

-The terms "sweet potato" and "yam" are often used interchangeably, but they are not the same thing. Yams are way bigger (up to 2.5 metres long!), and not as sweet.

-Cornucopias are incredibly impractical-looking baskets. That's not really trivia, just an observation.


Figure 1: This basket is supposed to carry what, exactly?

Sgt. Rza's Lonely Hearts Club Band

Big news over on Pitchfork yesterday. Not new-Radiohead-album-big, but pretty big.

In the world of hip hop sampling, pretty much everything has been covered. Diddy's sampled Bowie, Ghostface Killah has sampled Schoolhouse Rock, and everybody has sampled the Knight Rider theme.

However, there remains one giant, glaring omission in the world of sampling. No one has ever legally sampled The Beatles.

Yesterday, it was announced that the longstanding Beatles resistance to sampling had ended, and the first group to obtain legal permission to sample their music was... The Wu Tang Clan? I'm not making that up.

It was reported that the song to be sampled was "While My Guitar Gently Weeps", which will make up part of "My Heart Gently Weeps", a track on the upcoming Wu Tang Clan album. "Finally!", I thought, "the tastefully brilliant, understated guitar melodies of George Harrison's songwriting and Eric Clapton's soloing will be accompanied by The Rza spittin' game all over yo face."

Alas, it was not to be. Today, the Clan posted a note on their MySpace stating that they were very sorry, but by "sample", they meant "interpolation". And I'm pretty sure by "interpolation", they mean "interpretation", but I'm not going to correct them. They own guns, and are apparently nothin' to fuck with.

In any case, the Pitchfork correction has a link to an mp3 copy of the "interpolation" if you feel like checking it out.

Tomatoes: the debate rages on

I've heard many different arguments on the topic of whether tomatoes are a fruit or a vegetable, but today I decided to see if I could find a definitive answer. It seems that botanically, they are fruits, specifically berries, which blew my mind. However, they are also made into sauce and served on pasta, and I have never heard of a pasta served with fruit sauce. Though, now that I mention it, that might be delicious. Maybe I should pioneer a line of dessert pastas... Raspberry cannoli? Chocolate caramel lasagna? Could be delicious.

The definition for vegetable seems largely culinary. Some definitions call vegetables any edible plant or plant part, which would mean that fruits are a subset of vegetables. However, some other definitions specify that vegetables are any edible plant or plant part that is not a fruit. Therefore, if all fruits are vegetables, and to be a vegetable, you must NOT be a fruit, fruit does not exist.

We are no closer to an answer.

Luckily, in 1883, the Supreme Court of the United States of America stepped in to end the chaos once and for all, and legally declared tomatoes to be vegetables. This is a US-specific law, though, so if you're eating an American tomato, you're most definitely eating a vegetable. However, if that tomato happens to be Mexican, it could well be a fruit. Barring a UN-backed global tomato standardization effort, the debate may never be settled.

Some more interesting tomato trivia:

-The tomato's latin name, Solanum lycopersicum, means "wolf-peach". So next time you're ordering some spaghetti, don't forget the wolf-peach berry sauce.

-"Tomato" was popular slang for an attractive woman in the United States from the 1920's to the 1940's.

-Tomatoes used to be considered poisonous due to their botanical relation to the "nightshade" family of plants, many of which are indeed poisonous.

-According to American legend, the tomato's poisonous reputation led a British national to attempt the assassination of George Washington by serving him a dish laced with tomatoes. Sinister!

Happy 50th birthday, Sputnik!

I was flipping through the fantastic Mental Floss blog this morning, and I found a link to a pretty interesting article over on Wired about the scientists who were responsible for the development of Sputnik, which was launched 50 years ago Thursday.

Apparently it wasn't a very meticulously planned scientific instrument. Rather, the Soviets designed an intercontinental ballistic missile with the goal of being able to hit the US with a hydrogen bomb, and just happened to notice that the result was a rocket with enough thrust to put something into orbit. Some dude pointed this out, and said "Hey, we should use this to launch something into space".

They then proceeded to cobble together a satellite in three months, and blasted it off into orbit. Three months! I prefer not to itemize what I have achieved in the last three months, but it falls somewhat short of putting the world's first artificial satellite in orbit.

One more interesting tidbit: Sputnik had no scientific instruments on board at all. Just 2 radio transmitters and four antennae. All it did was beep.

New Radiohead Album (!!!)

Radiohead's had a new album in the works for quite a while, but their cryptic blog never made mention of any sort of official release date, which meant people were expecting it sometime next year, at the earliest. Of course, if you're Radiohead, you've got the artistic and financial leverage to do whatever the hell you want, so on Saturday they announced that their latest (and seventh) full-length album, "In Rainbows", is coming out in 10 days, and will be available online only for the first 2 months of its release.

The physical album itself will actually be released as a "discbox" featuring an extra CD of music, as well as two 12" vinyl LPs, a lyrics booklet and an art booklet. How much? Not cheap. Including shipping anywhere in the world, it's a flat rate of 40 pounds ($81CAD as of Sunday night), which is a lot for an album, but consider the fact that it also comes in an attractive slipcover. Also consider the fact that I am a rabid Radiohead fan, and would pay for the album with a tooth if I had to.

Now, you may be saying "$80 is way too much to ask, damn those greedy musicians!", but if you read a little further, you'll notice that the asking price for the digital download is anything. They are willing to accept ANY PRICE. Whatever you think is fair.

Radiohead is awesome.

The download becomes available on October 10th. It's a good thing that's the same day as the provincial elections, otherwise I would probably just sit in my room all day listening to Radiohead. I am excited. Radiohead.

New Music!

I just picked up a copy of the new Band of Horses album, "Cease to Begin", and it is awesome.

I was a big fan of their last album "Everything All The Time", which was sort of split between full-out indie rockers and big, folk-ish ballads. It's one of the most listenable albums, from start to finish, that I've heard. It's the perfect album to put on when you want a hour of consistent music that's not so bland it just sits in the background, but not so in-your-face that it demands all your attention. They're not shattering new musical territory or anything, they just write really, really good songs.

According to the band, the new album leans a little more towards the folk than the rock, but after giving it one listen it sounds like there's lots of both. Like the first one, it sounds like the kind of album that grows on you until you can't get it out of your head.

Techniques for Consumption

I was reading about the recently passed Mid-Autumn Festival, the holiday which celebrates the full moon of the 8th month of the Chinese lunar calendar, which then got me reading about Mooncakes, which are the official pastry of Mid-Autumn Festivals, and also sound like they should be sort of supernaturally delicious.



Judging by some of the ingredients on the Mooncake Wikipedia entry (mung bean paste, watermelon seeds, salted egg yolks), I'm not sure their real-life deliciousness can stack up to my imagined deliciousness, but I did notice another interesting thing on the Mooncake page. Some of these cakes are flavoured with jujube fruit.

Wait, you're telling me jujubes are a real life thing, and not just a gummy confectionary? No way.

Well, as it turns out, yes way. The jujube plant produces a small, red fruit which can be dried and used in Mooncakes, among other things. I assume it is also the inspiration for Jujubes (the candy), but I haven't been able to find anything online to verify my hunch.

I did, however, find some great suggestions on the Wikipedia entry for Jujubes (confectionary). Specifically, the "Techniques for Consumption" section offered some sage advice:

"Due to the hard, dense, and resinous nature of Jujubes, the candies are often consumed as a type of hard candy - "sucked on" rather than chewed with one's teeth. If multiple Jujubes are placed in the mouth at once, saliva will congeal the candies into a single mass. Individual Jujubes can be allowed to gradually rehydrate in the mouth with gentle chewing. It is due to their density that the 1996 Gummi Reviews published by NewTimes, Inc., stated that Jujubes are "a nearly inedible delicacy that has less in common with gummis than with those prehistoric amber droppings that were always trapping insects."

It should be noted that these consumption techniques refer to the harder "American-style" jujubes (pictured below), and not our soft, yielding Canadian ones. Usage of American-style jujube consumption techniques on Canadian jujubes should be pursued at your own risk.



Also, I'm not sure how one goes about getting a copy of the 1996 Gummi Reviews (Google Scholar?), but I want one.

Adventures in Typography

Fonts are pretty neat. I've had a few conversations about fonts over the last few days, which seemed a bit high when compared to my average number of font conversations per week (zero), but the more I learn about them, the more I'm interested by them.

The cool thing about fonts is that they can really significantly affect your perception of a message without you even realizing it. The obvious typographic tricks like bold and italics can add emphasis, but the REALLY sinister typographic tricks can manipulate your interpretation of a message in much subtler ways.

Take FedEx, for example. Their logo is pretty well known, and easily recognizable, but it also contains a subliminal message. The font used in the logo is spaced and stretched exactly enough so that the negative space between the "E" and the "x" forms an arrow. If you haven't looked at the FedEx logo and seen an arrow before, prepare to have your mind blown.



The idea is that the arrow implies forward motion and speed. It's debatable how much of an effect the arrow actually has on their business, but I definitely do get a very business-oriented, efficient vibe from their logo.

Another company that's used typography pretty prominently to reshape public perception is the old British Petroleum, now known as BP. Here's their old logo:



Gah, the big capital letters and shield-ish crest basically scream "old, rich white guy smoking a cigar and burning rainforests". BP figured this out too, and came up with this new logo to replace it:



Aah, much better. The lowercase, sans serif bp says "We're so hip and environmentally friendly, we don't waste time or unnecessary ink on capitalization of letters", and the green thing says "Here at BP, we mine sunflowers, and our main industrial byproducts are sunshine and happiness". Keeping in mind that it's exactly the same company, look at those two logos and tell me the second one doesn't make you feel just a little bit better about BP as a company. Such is the power of typography (and graphic design, I guess).

As a final note, I came across a huge article about a guy who spent several years of his life trying to design a new, superior font called "Clearview" for American highway signs, to replace their old, not-so-great "Highway Gothic" font. It's pretty shocking just how much thought can be put into letter shapes.