chevelin

Happy Prosperous Future

2008-12-31T15:26:00.003-06:00

As I wrap up 2008, I have to admit it’s been a good year. Maybe that’s because it started off on the right foot.

I met a lot of new humans, most of who are so cool that I count myself lucky to be associated with them…one in particular is just realizing she controls her own hands.

I’ll usher in 2009 the same way I did with 2008: surrounded by friends. As a reader of too many news and science articles, I admit it is not always easy to maintain a rosy picture of our species and planet, but it is celebrations like tonight’s ritual renewal where I can’t help feel that everything will be just fine.

So I wish you and yours a Happy New Year!

See you on the other side.

I just wanted popcorn and Dots

2008-12-12T15:24:00.006-06:00

Should I go see The Day the Earth Stood Still?

That was the question in mind when I jumped on the Goog. I read a few reviews and decided that every remake is castigated by critics...whatever, I’m going to see it anyway.

Then I checked the Goog Reader and saw that one of my favorite science sites had also reviewed it. But before they launched into their ‘meh’ review, they typed one of the most saddest things I’ve read:

“...they [astrobiologists] [ed note: I bet it sounds cooler than it really is] have speculated that more advanced lifeforms are exceedingly rare: consider that for 85 per cent of the 4 billion years life has existed on Earth, no multicellular creatures arose. So the rapid extinction of many species here would be a significant blow to the biodiversity of the entire galaxy, not just the Earth’s.”

Wow. Not only do humans shoulder the guilt for the Earth, but the entire Universe?

T.G.I.F.

This movie review—-combined with the gloomy economic news, the freezing temperatures, the smelly homeless man that I couldn’t stand touching me on the train, and a week of restless sleep—-has me seriously in the negative on Respect-for-Humanity points. Tack onto that the clear realization that I am just as guilty! It’s not some phantom Republican who is burning “clean” coal in a hospital maternity ward. I carry my groceries home in plastic bags, for chrissakes! I’m a conspirator!

Luckily, there are two days ahead in which I have complete control over my schedule and I’m taking suggestions from you on how to balance myself out by Monday.

Sushi crime fighters

2008-12-06T10:45:00.007-06:00

We can all attest with some sadness that Saturday morning cartoons are no longer what they used to be. We all had our favorites (though mine were limited because our antennaed television on the farm only picked up 4-5 channels) and look upon these creations as pure blasphemy.

Well, this morning I woke up early with nothing to do, so I went channel surfing. That's when I discovered the wacky world of the Sushi Pack. They are tiny pieces of sushi that fight crime using their wits first...and culinary weapons only as a last resort.

Villain: "No you don't, crab cakes!"

Weapons include the ability to shoot fish eggs or multicolored ink and lobster pinchers. A tiny sidekick (Wasabi) speaks incoherently while shooting fireballs.

My opinion: Too much awesomeness. But I wonder how many 3-6 year old hotdog eaters know what sushi is? Or does it matter?

Then again, I didn't know half of what was going on in He-Man, I just knew that I was going to be him when I grew up. Does that mean this new generation will grow up with fantasies of becoming crime-fighting condiments?

I now want a pet Wasabi for Christmas...

Never say never. Dare ya.

2008-11-13T14:49:00.005-06:00

Regrets, as most will agree, are viewed as a waste of time. Some friends have expressed proudly to me that they have NO regrets. That’s like saying I’m above reality television: Bullshit.

Regrets can also conveniently be turned into learning experiences. In high school, I accidentally insulted the class Wiccan. He claimed the ability to make it rain, so you can imagine my horror of turning around and finding him staring deep into my now damned soul. I felt terrible and have ever since been more careful before making fun of others. This regret turned into a Life Lesson, therefore making me appreciate that it occurred in the first place.

But I will go on record right now as having one regret. Just one. And it's a biggie.

In college, for our annual Flunk Day celebration (school sanctioned celebration), I booked Chicago’s Kill Hannah as the musical entertainment instead of...

...OkGo.

Ugh. Now you see why. There’s no lesson to be had. I couldn’t have seen a few months into the future when they’d release their sensational treadmill video. My error has forever left a void in the hearts of every student...a garish gash upon the gentle, porcelain veneer that is Coe College. No offense meant to Kill Hannah, of course.

What's your greatest regret?

Neurology

2008-11-11T15:10:00.005-06:00

My elitist magazine tastes pointed me to a very interesting New Yorker article written by none other than Jonah Lehrer.

Why does the article stand on its own? Because it includes a story about firefighters (awesome!) AND finding out exactly why humans have insights (Aha!).

Ever had a great idea in the shower? Read the latest theory on why.

And then subscribe to Lehrer's blog.

Intervention

2008-10-23T15:53:00.004-05:00

By grace (and modern medicinal steroids), my eye has healed. As quick as the right retina contracted the eye cold, it just as quickly went back to normal.

Using my newfound 20/20, I read a fascinating study this morning which provides a perfectly adequate explanation for my response to the malady. The study says that the willpower contained in our prefrontal cortex is proportionate to the calculating load that our brains can manage. This means that if you are using lots of brainpower to concentrate on something big, the amount of willpower at your disposal will be severely lacking.

Stress eaters find this as no surprise, but I’ve never been one. Imagine my shock then, that by excessively worrying about my eye this week, I suddenly sought to satisfy my comfort cravings NO MATTER WHAT...and my diet growing up dictates that sugar is my comfort food. With a feeble brain on full pink eye alert, I had to hold back the urge to chug on packets of Splenda. Hour upon hour I would drink honey tea so full of sugar that it had the taste (and texture) of cotton candy.

Now, with the eye healed and stress dissipating, I get to confront a dark, visceral addiction to sweets. My usual afternoon snack of almonds tastes like cardboard. I choke on water. Irritable. Moody. Delusions that I can fly. Fantasies of building a refinery in my basement...it's getting out of control.

Of course, I’ll need massive amounts of caffeine just to make it through tomorrow...but that’ll be another entry.

Catch-20/20 with no end in sight

2008-10-20T15:35:00.003-05:00

I count myself lucky to so rarely take ill. Other than a seasonal cough, most bugs don’t stick around in my system for too long. This may very well explain why I’m such a whiny brat when my health gives the slightest sign of weakness.

Enter pink eye. Yes--that infection of the ocular nature everyone contracted once in grade school when it was okay to stick your dirty little grubs in other people’s faces.

Except I’m not nine years old. And I certainly don’t tolerate dirty hands touching my eyeballs. So, why me?

Beyond that, why pink eye? Instead of a nice, easy cold that I could suppress with trippy drugs and yummy teas, I instead get to wear the careless disregard for my immune system on my face! And people definitely treat you with less sympathy than if you had a nagging cough—-especially when I can’t seriously look them in the face because of a droopy eyelid. Damn you, conjunctivitis!

For many years, I’ve worn contacts. I wear them so much that I never replaced my broken eyeglasses from college. Now I stare back, red faced and pink eyed, at my optometrist who tells me that not only can I NOT wear my contacts, but I CANNOT get a new prescription for eyeglasses until my eye heals.

Do optometrists have to take the Hippocratic Oath like other doctors?

Testic Lit, copied!

2008-09-30T12:12:00.006-05:00

Esquire has released it's 75 Books Every Man Should Read.

Only one direct match to Testic Lit (Saunders' Civilwarland in Bad Decline, which was submitted to me by a female friend), but many authors crossed over including Vonnegut, McCullough, and Kerouac.

PS They totally copied me. The criteria was, "...unranked, incomplete, utterly biased list of the greatest works of literature ever published." Sounds a lot like what I was asking for...

In a flurry of unpreparedness...

2008-09-15T14:15:00.008-05:00

...I boarded a plane to Nebraska last Thursday for a weekend visit. Trips to my homeland are few and far between, so I beg family members to cram the entire weekend with as many celebratory gatherings as possible. I returned home late last night reeking of airport plush and heavy muscles from all the lugging.

Friday, it all began with a family day-cation to Yankton, SD. This border town boasts a large dam, the resulting Lewis and Clark Lake, and per capita the largest number of pickups and boats that take glee in blocking traffic. Though I spent most of my childhood summers here, driving over the dam never fails to scare the living heck out of me. (When playing at the beaches, I often had day-mares that I would fall asleep on a water noodle and wake up finding myself being sucked down to the turbine vents. Worst. Possible. Death. Imaginable. Ensues. And surprised fishermen watch as a shredded noodle pops out on the other side.)

The highlight of the trip though, was spending time with the newest addition to our family: Lola, my fresh-faced and surprisingly smiley-happy niece. She’s my new fave. And of course, I’m hers.

We finished the day defining the word gluttony at Jo-Dean’s, “a South Dakota tradition” famous for OD’ing on (most certainly NOT safe-caught) seafood. For $20, you can belly up to a buffet of shark, eel, frog legs, and other aquatic fare. It’s utterly weird to witness but tastes great when washed down with a Bud Light.

Saturday found my father and I doing our best to make sure my mom’s 50th surprise birthday party stayed a surprise. It did, she was thrilled, and we saw many old friends and extended family.

Sunday was Lola’s baptism. I made friends with a Catholic deacon who couldn’t stop hugging me, became a godparent for the first time, and swore -- in front of a statue of Jesus, no less -- that I’d lead her to a fulfilling life of servitude to the church. Afterwards, we celebrated Lola’s escape from Limbo by dining at Valentino’s – a favorite childhood restaurant of mine only because their spaghetti sauces contain so much sugar that you need an insulin chaser.

Then comes the return flight to Chicago. I would never classify myself as a sentimental person – conversations regarding weddings, funerals, etc. make me so uncomfortable I tend to eject a Hallmark-template response and walk away from the situation as fast as socially acceptable. I also RAN at my first opportunity to move away after high school.

It must be a sign of aging, then, that for the first time I felt nostalgic about leaving the people and place that represented my upbringing. Even more odd was that I was more at home in the airplane 25,000 feet above both the place I used to call home and the city I do now. I fittingly happened across an article about Restless Life Syndrome which described a person who needed to rewrite their life every 6-12 months. I’m not sure that at age 27 I can identify with the solution they propose, but I can certainly relate to the idea that after leaving a bit of myself in so many places, I feel a bit disconnected from the person I’ve actually become.

Thankfully, I don’t have much time to dwell on it. If you need me, I’ll be at the gym for the rest of the month.

View from breakfast at Mahoney Park.

The Spirit Issue

2008-09-08T15:10:00.004-05:00

What do you believe in?

I believe in Friends. They are the best.

Also, I believe in Mangoes. They taste good with pretty much anything.

As well as Telling Stories, Love after love, and Curiosity.

Now you...

Aliens in the ocean

2008-08-27T12:11:00.001-05:00

Cooooool! Think my roommates will let me get one?

Thanks Coudal

Twinsies

2008-08-06T21:30:00.002-05:00

Salon.com leaves a review of Conor Oberst similar to mine, but not necessarily in such a positive light...

"For a few years Conor Oberst was the older brother I never had -- he experienced everything first and left me a detailed map of the empty apartments, serious breakups and unquenchable longings that define late adolescence. These days, my anxieties involve repaying school loans, carving out a professional life and fitting all of my responsibilties into roughly 17 wakeful hours a day. While these concerns are surely less romantic than what preceded them, I can't help wondering what Oberst would have to say about early adulthood. If he has half the insight and descriptive power at 28 that he had at 16, I can only hope the dust and tumbleweeds clear so we can hear what's really on his mind."

Victory is sweet, even deep in the cheap seats...

2008-08-06T12:53:00.003-05:00

I can’t help but talk about Conor Oberst’s (of Bright Eyes) first solo album, available yesterday. I learned of the release only last week, but have been obsessing about it ever since.

The Bright Eyes years were essentially a haunting road trip for the lovelorn, depressed, or quietly observant. But then comes Cassadaga, released in April of 2007. I STILL am finding appreciation for those tracks...Lime Tree and Hot Knives, in particular.

His lyrics at times make no sense whatsoever. That is, until you experience a subtle loss or gain, be it friend or lover or pet or job or bit of pride, and you suddenly realize he’d been warning you all along…but will never claim that he told you so. (See: We Are Nowhere and Its Now. I couldn’t find the version sung with Emmylou Harris, but if you listen to it you’ll definitely need to call a friend just to say hello.)

Some fans wouldn’t agree with me, but I wholeheartedly claim he’s gotten better with every album. So natch, I’m excited to listen nonstop all weekend.

Call for submissions: Testic Lit

2008-07-25T15:43:00.005-05:00

Inspired by one of my faves who has been mentioning her personal “chic lit” progress all summer, I’ve decided to research and compile one for the boys.

Let’s call it...Testic Lit. ("dick lit" sounded far too plebeian)

This list—--for the men out there who find themselves yearning for a bit more than occasional GQ magazine or blockbuster action flick---will cover all things that happen to be fucking cool.

This list MAY include:

-Current events, pirates, money, murder, gadgets, music, sex, sin, and gratuitous violence.
-Distinguished authors. Let's go for quality plus excitement with this list.

This list may NOT include

-Comic books (let’s not dig ourselves any deeper);
-Stories containing the words nail polish, romance, shopping, self-help, Prada, pregnancy, or feminine napkin;
-Any book with the words “eat”, “love” and “pray” in the title;
-References to Mars/Venus, unless you happen to be battling aliens on said planets;
-Descriptive metaphors for sex acts (I’m talking to YOU hot and pulsing root of manhood);
-No lame mysteries that you buy from the checkout stand at Wal-Mart.

This may prove harder than we think. In a few quick Google searches, I uncovered only lists that helped men to find Christ, resolve identity problems, and books men should read if they ever felt like engaging in domestic violence.

So provide me with some recommendations in the comments section. Haven't read it yet? I don't care. I’ll compile them on Monday and we’ll have a handy guide to getting through the summer...one strapping, broad shouldered tome at a time.

You'll beg me not to leave you...

2008-07-23T14:20:00.002-05:00

For quite a few months now, I’ve been gazing at this amazing little portal into another dimension.

You see, a few months ago, I applied and was accepted to a number of graduate programs very much NOT in my current field and in very much WARMER, PALM TREE-LINED climates. Obviously I wussed out because...well, I’m a wuss.

Fate: Hey! Try something new with your life!
Me: Nah.

Anyway, these PALM TREE-LINED campuses keep sending me reminders to register for classes, find housing, apply for funding, and even meet my new professors. I haven’t the heart to unsubscribe. In fact, I NEED these communications lately. They come with pretty images of campus and I start fantasizing about going to college to learn all over again. Actually, those fantasies more or less involve me living on the beach and having a six-pack. Wha?

With the pictures of palm trees, I start thinking about the missed opportunity I had with the aquarium fundraising offer. I mean, constant beach/sand/pool/sea turtle life would be quite welcome right now. Plus I love enchiladas and margaritas and this place was like forty paces from the Mexico border (only if you’re bring chased under the light of a new moon). The pay vs. cost of living also would have me probably owning some sort of water recreational vehicle. For sure. Oh, plus pools in every apartment complex. Makes the 5x5 backyard deck seem not so cool, huh?

Alas, portals into other dimensions are often rose-colored, at least in my sad and sardonic universe: First, my mentor for my favored grad program was killed in a motorcycle accident this summer. That means, I would have made plans and moved to Florida only to not be trained by the best. Also, everyone knows that grad school is NOT undergrad bong-filled frat parties and instead perseverance and academic competition.

Secondly, the aquarium I would have been employed at is currently witnessing the Eye of God (aka eye of Hurricane Dolly). As I say no more to Iowa, God’s wrath washes away the entire business district; I say no to Corpus Christi, Hello Dolly; I say no to graduate school and the lead professor has an accident.

.

So maybe all of these decisions (are they regrets?) were the right ones. But then again (how often do you get to quote Fight Club?): "On a long enough timeline..."

Who is cool? I am.

2008-07-23T13:49:00.003-05:00

Sunday, I saw Dark Knight like everyone else in America who’s cool.

My opinion? It was too loud, too long, and I left the theater with the urge to jump off of a tall building. EVERYTHING a summer blockbuster should be! Action flicks should be nothing but eardrum rupturing explosions roaring away for two and half hours while instilling our male youth with a false sense of invisibility. On my deathbed, my only regret shall be that I didn’t somehow acquire superpowers.

As for all the talk about Heath, I could barely tell it was him under all that glorious insanity (will someone practice the disappearing pencil trick with me? I'll be Joker). A minor disappointment was that Batman’s fighting technique more closely resembled “barroom brawl” when compared to the stealthy HOW DID YOU COME OUT OF NOWHERE TEACH ME ninja moves from Batman Begins?

Monday, apparently the sky above Chicago—like most roads, train tracks, elevators, stairways, and sidewalks—is under construction. Covering it until repairs are complete is an ominous, misty, warm, cloud (see picture...which is also goes well with the Dark Knight convo). I call it God’s Armpit mainly cuz the city also smelled like the world’s biggest one. It's better than calling it The Mist, which would give me daymares of walking to the train. PS have you seen this movie? I recommend it if you feel like hating humanity for two straight hours then being swiftly punched in the nuts.

On my way to lunch, I nearly ran into my old boss. It was soooo obvious that she had seen me—but deliberately ignored me—because I could read her lips which were silently wording a prayer that I’d ignore her the same. Normally, I’d quash all that hope and lavish loud and awkward conversation all over her face. But I also left that job with us both agreeing I was a shit-for-brains slacker. So I played her game. Thank you, years of 9-5ing...thanks for transforming me into just a shell of who I used to be...

why not me?

2008-07-17T21:24:00.002-05:00

You have no idea how pissed I am not to be in line for Dark Knight. Damn you, IMAX website!!!!

Obesity in America

2008-07-08T11:47:00.001-05:00

There is something incredibly therapeutic about consuming string cheese. My guess is that it’s the only time you are encouraged to play with your food, save for peeling fruit. All of our food should be peel-able before eating.

In my 27th year of life, I’ve finally started eating better. I feel this is quite an accomplishment, considering my upbringing AND the fact that I’m doing this now and not 10/20/never years from now.

As a growing boy, my scrawny body worked really hard to absorb every last existing nutrient out of Little Debbie HoHo’s and pop. I grew up on a farm where vegetables were really only consumed 3-4 months out of the year (garden) while the rest of my meals consisted of fatty beef or pork (one time pets of mine) combined with potatoes, potatoes, and more potatoes. And soda. Averaging 2-4 a day. My dear readers, this should come as no surprise, especially when you reference the state of Nebraska on this map.

High school and college eating habits were predictable enough: whatever I could afford, meaning fast food (fear not Wendy’s, I’ll never stop loving you…from afar), noodles, or colorless cafeteria fare.

With full time employment and free evenings post-graduation, menus were (still no complaint here) alcohol and late night pizza. I’d actually hope that I’d pass out before finishing the WHOLE pie.

Then came the doctors appointment a few months ago, where I was shocked (!?) to learn I had high cholesterol. This, combined with a less than impressive midsection, led me to believe that perhaps the exercise and healthy-eating habits of others weren’t simply a fad I could continue to ignore.

So now, I run and swim and stick to a depressingly “diet-sounding” diet authored by some healthnut douchebag at Men’s Health. (I really should be getting paid for glowing endorsements like this.)

I am again shocked (!?) to see that it works. I feel betterish, more energeticish...all those things annoyingly fit people say to others. The belly will always need work of course; you can’t expect to work miracles against arteries clogged with 27-year-old high fructose corn syrup.

And let’s be honest, I’d still kill for a slice of pizza and a Mountain Dew.

So pretty...

2008-07-01T16:01:00.003-05:00

Thanks ang for pointing me in this direction. I've played with word cloud generators before, but this one is the prettiest.

2008-04-16T12:14:00.003-05:00

This morning I thought I saw Donald Sutherland on Michigan Avenue. Though misplaced and in error, the resulting excitement has left a residual smile on my face. Turned out to be a homeless man, to whom I gave a quarter.

Unrelated: There has been some speculative debate that the Large Hadron Collider (I mistyped one of those words on the first try, btw) will be plugged in after completion and immediately create a black hole that swallows the earth. In the name of science, build the damn thing, already. Any negative result—such as a black hole—is probably the coolest way to die ever, and I’d drag all 6.8 billion of you with me. Paradoxically (fun! cosmo-speak!), the prestige of dying as a result of being squished to singularity is pretty much lost when 6.8 billion go the same way.

Clarification: Chances it creates a black hole are apparently minimal and even if so, it would probably evaporate immediately. Yeah scientists, I’m sure you’ll be screaming that when you hit the event horizon.

Homework: Use “In the name of science!” somewhere in conversation today. Let me know how it goes.

A Necessary Weekend

2008-03-31T15:50:00.001-05:00

It is truly amazing what an early Friday dismissal from work can do for the rest of your weekend. Between the extra time to catch up on rest and more time at the gym, Saturday and Sunday found me far more relaxed and in control of my schedule than I can remember in many moons.

Each weekend morning, I exploited the agreeable morning weather for a walk to catch up on Radio Lab podcasts. These are so incredibly entertaining; I can’t rave about them enough. One live show in particular focused on the War of the Worlds radio hoax back in the ‘30’s – I can’t imagine a more interesting way to learn about what turned out to be a neat though unintended sociological experiment. Also unknown to me was that a Mexican radio station attempted to revive the hoax a few decades later…too well perhaps. The ensuing panic resulted in six deaths. Sad, yes, but if you want to go back to being happy, be sure to listen to the Laughter episode next. Passerby's on the street will certainly think you're crazy...

My work week will stand in stark contrast to the weekend—I am managing two sponsor projects for this month’s First Fridays event. Both require lots of hands-on-ness and I’m lighting a candle each evening requesting that Mother Nature not rain on this expensive parade (both figuratively and meteorologically—forecasts predict a precipitous doom).

More Lazy, Here I Come

2008-03-12T12:04:00.001-05:00

Most excellent - what may not deliver can still be delivered to you thanks to NightOwl Deliveries.

Guilt and Red Wine

2008-03-08T16:48:00.002-06:00

I feel just terrible for being away for so long. Actually I don't care, but it's been difficult to find something to write about and I've been busy scouring the city for moose heads. And as for topics, I feel a bit wayward lately, so anyone got a new milieu I can occupy? At the least, send me the definition of milieu so I can use it correctly next time (though I got the spelling right on the first try...FYP!). Totally shitty spellchecker. Nevermind.

Today has been quite exciting...I have purchased:

1) A haircut. If you're in Chicago or within the general Midwestern US vicinity, I recommend Dominique. She rocks my scalp.

2) Planetarium Vial Gardens. It strokes both the mad scientist and wanna-be green thumb in me. I opted for the basil and tomato plants. Buckle your seat belts for regular picture updates! YEAH!

3) Swim goggles. For swimming, not raving.

4) Gym membership...providing an appropriate venue to use the aforementioned.

Since I can tell you're all in a list mood, I feel obliged to report on the progress that I made on goals set in the last post.

1 & 2: It's been far too cold, therefore I've abandoned the idea of ice skating for the time being. Maybe when global warming gets a better foothold.

3: Obviously, I cleared the hurdle of packing, because I now live in a frat house / ski lodge.

5: Finished I Am Legend in, like, four minutes (loved it, as I suspected) and

7: celebrated by drinking red wine nonstop until today (that's 7,259,345,346 bottles, folks).

Finally, I wish to apologize for calling Disney's animation efforts an 'abomination.' last month. I was high on red wine.

A Face That Looks of Love Lost

2008-01-18T12:27:00.000-06:00

Heading into the three-day weekend, I realize that I have made no plans whatsoever. To be quite honest, I keep forgetting that there are THREE WHOLE DAYS of freedom spread out before me, just begging me to lay waste to each one over the dulled blade of slothfulness.

So, I have made a List:
1) Go ice skating.
2) Admit I’m a sadomasochist. See 1.
3) Begin packing my bedroom.
4) Get a haircut, ya hippy!
5) Read Matheson’s I Am Legend cover-to-cover.
6) Watch a crazy-large number of episodes of Prison Break, Season 1.
7) Drink red wine in generous quantities. 7.5)Guilt-free.
8) Don’t lie when you report on your List progress on Tuesday.

I have an idea about why I forgot about this weekend: I had fantastic plans last night, which overshadowed all others. I and a few friends are apparently making a coldest-day-of-winter tradition out of Redmoon theater productions. Last night included a warm belly full of Italian food from Oggi Trattoria before an incredible recreation of Victor Hugo’s Hunchback. The food was mediocre but the company and entertainment excellent. The Redmoon cast used puppets, shadows, actors, and masks to retell the story; Hugo even made an appearance to offer commentary and clear up a few details. The show was extended to February, so I recommend you go – there’s no better way to spend a cold winter’s night than in the heart of 1482 Paris in all of its diseased and dirty wonder. I’m embarrassed to admit that I wasn’t at all familiar with the plot, never having read the story. In this age of Disney abominations – replete with a Happy Ending for all - the story of ghastly characters and a tragic ending was oddly refreshing. So, Hunchback is now on the List To Do Before I Die By Hanging. Because that’s how Hugo would have it.

And since it’s Friday, I have an interesting discussion to share. Not the inaccurate and confusing news story itself, but the implications of our decision to communicate…or keep quiet (and therefore alive, just long enough for us to destroy ourselves).

"The Emissions Thing"

2008-01-17T09:26:00.000-06:00

Everyone loves to gang up on Texas (in the absence of Texans), but I couldn't help pulling this quote from a climate story from yesterday. Apparently, if Texas were its own country (it isn't?), it would be the seventh-worst carbon emitter on the planet. This makes it the dirtiest state in the US.

My favorite part: Debbie Howden, an Austin real estate agent, said her family of six has two pickup trucks, three SUVs, and no apologies. "I would definitely put size and safety over THE EMISSIONS THING," said Howden, 55. She calls their high fuel bills a "necessary evil."

[Emphasis my own, but hardly necessary.]

This everything-is-bigger-including-our-ignorance mentality was a contributing factor to my decision NOT to move to Corpus Christi last fall. Yes, it was at first difficult: There was the lure of a plush aquarium job, sandy beaches, sea turtles/dolphins/otters (each earns a collective aww), and the Gulf of Mexico out my kitchen window.

But, there were also sooo many Texans.

Finally, A Straight Answer

2007-12-27T15:27:00.000-06:00

From Frontal Cortex

"The fact of the matter is that the best diet in the 21st century is essentially the diet of an 18th century Tuscan peasant. As Pollan observes, this diet doesn't take very long to describe: "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." If you follow that sage advice, you won't need to nourish your brain with the latest supermarket gimmicks."

How Else Would I Cope?

2007-12-05T13:51:00.000-06:00

From Gaper's Block: Today is Repeal Day, the anniversary of the repeal of the 18th amendment (the one that prohibited the sale and transportation of "intoxicating liquors").

And then a rebuttal.

The Death of Bunny (In Three Parts)

2007-12-04T15:25:00.000-06:00

Pretty. Gruesome. Fun.

The Future of Reading

2007-11-20T10:02:00.000-06:00

So I have yet to read the Newsweek article on the revolution of paper and ink, but I heard so much buzz on the media that I understand the jist: Amazon has created a digital "book" that contains many books. While I'm not an enemy of change and regularly read stories from purely online resources, I can't help but agree with this reaction.

My parents have a natural aversion to change, but they also can't always reference Orwell for what they resist.

Meet A New Dinosaur

2007-11-15T13:29:00.000-06:00

Nigersaurus, a dinosaur I frequently worked with at Project Exploration, has been officially unveiled by National Geographic today. He's quite bizarre - the media is calling him the "Hoover cow of the Mesozoic."

Bosses, Art, and Neuroscience

2007-11-14T10:43:00.000-06:00

Today will be a good day. First, my task list has grown greatly at work. Typically this is viewed as a negative and only brings on stress. However, I'm actually looking forward to banging through a number of these projects. Oh, and it doesn't hurt that I receive regular positive reinforcement and appreciation for my good work from superiors. It's amazing how this can affect motivation levels, as I nearly had forgotten what it feels like after so many months of the exact opposite.

Another highlight of this young day is the arrival of a book I ordered: Johan Lehrer's Proust Was a Neuroscientist. Despite staying busy with Newsweek and Eggers' The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2007, this book looks particularly interesting (I also follow his blogging here). It argues that, "artists...discovered an essential truth about the mind that science is only now rediscovering." Pretty exciting, huh?

My favorite quote thus far...and just from the preface...is, "Take the the human mind. Scientists describe our brain in terms of its physical details; they say we are nothing but a loom of electrical cells and synaptic spaces. What science forgets is that this isn't how we experience the world (We feel like the ghost, not like the machine.) It is ironic but true: the one reality science cannot reduce is the only reality we will ever know."

Clearly, I'm in for an awesome ride. Perhaps caused by long, isolated periods on a rural farm, I've always felt like the most amateur of artist and scientist. What I feel right now is a desire to have longer commutes to spend with Lehrer.

Once again, art and information collide.

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2007-11-12T15:22:00.000-06:00

I'm confused.

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2007-11-10T13:39:00.001-06:00

View from the hancock tower

Nostalgia

2007-11-08T16:46:00.001-06:00

Most often, I view memorabilia as dangerous. While sometimes it's okay to let your mind wander in reverse, an eternal pessimist doesn't always find it a smooth ride. A legal pad from a previous job you miss desperately, a cute note from a spurned lover buried in a wallet. These sorts of things simply open old wounds and I honestly hate them. With my extremely biological view of society, I believe our minds were meant to retain important survival skills and forget those events which will serve us little in the future.

Anniversaries are odd in that, being calendar-powered constructs, they are unavoidable. You can easily forget that it has been exactly one year since you made a move to Chicago on the anniversary DAY, however a stunning realization a few days later can feel like a flesh-eating virus on the brain. What am I doing here? Why do I feel five years older when it's only been one? Have I even fully made the transition back to living in the city? It's all very complicated

I Can Taste It

2007-11-08T09:30:00.000-06:00

Eerie - this would have been a great post for Halloween. I've been lucky (lucky?) to have little experience with death and dying, so this is fascinating.

Festival of Maps

2007-11-07T11:54:00.000-06:00

Despite being the hobby/obsession of one very wealthy group of people* who financed and seemingly pushed his interest on an already over-extended group of cultural institutions, I can't help but plug the Festival of Maps, which premiered in Chicago at the beginning of November. They have impressive collateral, ads, and an interesting website. Full disclosure: the MCA is a participant, but I see plenty of other venues throughout the city that look to have incredibly interesting seminars, exhibitions, and events on cartography...all while facing the digital age of Google Maps and GPS.

*It's well-known that one of the board members employees a full time curator for his private collection of maps.

Another Example of Machinary Addiction

2007-10-30T15:54:00.000-05:00

(And it sounds so much better if you say it "mash-in-air-ee"...)

Old habits are hard to break, apparently even for phone systems: Over the weekend our work telephones fell back, according to the old Daylight Saving Time rules (officially no 's' on Saving, kids).

This led to a hilarious level of internal stress within the museum since everyone was not noticing new messages until over an "hour" later. Hilarious! In all of two days, an unsentient machine made 100 people feel a bit insane. To the dystopic, I argue that we handed over control of our fears/emotions/bodies years ago...

Alas, ghosts in the machine just in time for Halloween.

Why I Love Google, Part XVII

2007-10-09T10:43:00.000-05:00

I am a total Googlephile. They just put up street views of Chicago as part of their mapping service.

Not Meant To Last

2007-10-09T09:38:00.000-05:00

If there's one positive aspect to lean on after learning that your landlord is planning to demolish your apartment building come spring, it's that he no longer cares about the little money he's making in rent or the final state of the apartment. We'll absolutely get every cent of our deposit back. An additional benefit is that your landlord suddenly decides to give you the garage for free, nixing the $200-per-month price tag. The garage, mind you, that is so large that it can fit oh, four economy cars and all the furniture you no longer want sitting in your living room. Expect a winter garage party for the roommates and 100 of our closest friends.

When I parked my [essentially fugitive] car with expired tags and Iowa plates within the four walls, roof, and automatic door this morning, I realized I haven't parked in a private garage since I've owned this car. Even more, I haven't parked A CAR in a garage since high school. It's sort of a privilege reserved to those with money or enough land to build one on (like the eighteen storage sheds on the farm back home). Seeing as how it affected my mood, predictably for rest of the day, I recommend parking in a garage every morning. Add to that a gigantic blueberry muffin from the farmers market and you'll be set.

I Almost Peed My Pants

2007-09-28T16:14:00.000-05:00

This past Wednesday, I attended a dress rehearsal of La Traviata as a guest of a corporate client. I have never been, nor imagined myself to be, an opera fan. My opinion stood that opera was much too high-culture for most people and that the art form was reserved to the puffy upper class. I still feel that way for the most part.

However, I certainly cannot discount the amount of talent that was displayed or the extent to which it affected me, a very plebeian observer. As you may know, La Traviata is the same opera in which Julia Roberts' character was found crying near the end. Here's play-by-play for me:

Act 1 = Desperately keep your eyes open. Orchestra playing familiar music (probably picked up from Looney Toons, but still effectively lulling my sleep-deprived body into a coma.

Act 2 = Ooh, the story is getting interesting. Love that cannot be realized...eternal devotion...life-threatening illness...

Act 3 = Please oh please don't let the lights come up until my mantears have dried!

It really was quite beautiful, but I'll continue to forgo the season tickets and hold out for those rare but free dress rehearsals.

"Not I," said the Duck.

2007-09-21T16:51:00.000-05:00

I sometimes respond to particular questions with a very odd response of, "Not I, said the Duck." This has been pretty automatic and I've never remembered where I picked it up.

Until today. Someone (understandably) asked what that meant, so I Googled it. After I clicked the first result, I instantly remembered that my great grandmother read this fairy tale to me as a kid. She only recently passed away, and I got to thinking how lucky I was to experience all but two great-grandparents for a good portion of my life. Almost all of my "Greatest Hits" childhood memories involve them.

This makes me think of myself as a robot kit--starting as a simple flesh frame and, with proper sun exposure and fuel, grown into what I am today...complete with all sorts of idiosyncrasies and manners contributed by different family and friends. For me, great- and regular grandparents are the sensory trigger-installers. For example, the smell of peaches remind me of weekends I spent with great grandma and grandpa where I woke up late to orchard-fresh sliced peaches doused in creme with coffee (I was eight! They were crazy!). A cozy blanket and book nowadays leads me to start thinking about when my frame was small enough to fit atop theirs while the grandmas read me to sleep with Mr Men and Little Miss or Little Golden books. As for the grandpas...how much cooler could they get? Infinite knowledge like how to hitch a trailer, drive a boat, tend to animals, eat, fish, walk beans, thump a melon, reining a horse to a real sled like Santa's, and cut wood. They were also daredevils building me birdhouses that captured the bird, welding together nails to make ninja stars, and taking me sledding on hills with 45-degree inclines.

How this passed-on knowledge helps with my fundraising career, I can't be sure. BUT I hope my grandkids are telling other people how cool I was after I'm gone.

How Fickle We Are

2007-09-18T07:48:00.001-05:00

Attention those that maintain their own website or e-newsletters: MarketingSherpa just did some research and discovered that even the words you type in a link to full articles affects the likelihood of web surfers clicking it.

They tested the click rates of the following:
1) Click to Continue
2) Continue to article
3) Read More

"Click to Continue" won the tests. MarketingSherpa believes "Read More" lost because people online SCAN...we're even averse to the word "read."

[I learned this via The Agitator - thanks Tom!]

Perspective: Gravity=Curvature of Spacetime

2007-09-17T22:27:00.000-05:00

Let's start with my take on this story of mine FIRST. After that, you can decide if you want to stick around if you like. Here it is: Perspective is everything.

Not long ago I started a new job. A step in the right direction, for sure. My first day also coincided with the first day for all fall interns...nearly twenty of them. They were nervous—-disarmingly charming—-and while waiting to get our security badges I did my best to blend. I made no mention that I wasn’t here for any other purpose other than to work shit hours for shit pay and for a while, it was good. My cover didn’t last long, though. Into the security room walks an intern from my previous job. She unwittingly blows my cover and reveals it's my first day at the manager level.

No longer did I have a group to share the nervousness of the first day with. No longer would they trust me with the knowledge that they too were scared, for now they had to impress me. It's funny how the pressure of an interview actually hides the true personality. Now you’re probably saying, “Who cares!? You have a position that pays! You’ve got more experience...status!” But I see it as having so much more to explain, understand, and be responsible for. More painfully and personally, it means I am OLDER.

I guess you could label the defensiveness and nostalgia as a quarter-life crisis (my third or fourth in as many years) if you want, or too much transition too fast (new apartment, new roommates, new job all in the same week), but I have long felt much older than my identification claims...and not in the wise sage sense. Between all the terrible habits I’ve battled—-the rehab-worthy partying I did for a decade, the above-average intellect that I squandered and dissolved, the complete lack of respect I’ve held for some and for myself—-I've eroded the youth with which I was born. I felt jealousy when I saw the interns and their bright, excited eyes. And to paraphrase James Baldwin, “It’s always at the hour of need that the missing limb aches.”

For a while now--months, I would guess--to compensate or make reparations (I haven’t figured out which one it is yet) I practice a number of self-improvements. I read voraciously, moreso than my highschool or college years, to reclaim a grasp of language. I force my nearly-agoraphobic, damaged brain into social skydiving. I cook. I practice honesty more often.

I also think about the early years. However SUCKY high school was, snapping beans from the garden for hours, or how much I hated my family situation at times, there was always an escape. Living on a farm and being essentially an only child grants you many opportunities for creativity in solitude.

Back to the story: On that first day of that great new job, walking down the hall to my bright new (shared) office, I couldn’t stop thinking about one thing: I just want to be a kid again. That's all I ask for. Start me over but of course don't forget to sprinkle me with just enough bacon bits of wisdom to avoid repeating the big “uh-ohs”...the ones where it's evident I didn't respect my body and emotions with the same respect I [should more often] demand from others.

When the body expires, I predict the last flashes of memory and electricity zapping across my synapses will be from my childhood, deliberatly lost for hours in a grove of trees. Perhaps those solitary beginnings explain my separation anxiety or why I avoid being alone as an adult...I'm sure different schools of thought could argue endlessly. And I would definitely want to have back that sun-bleached-white and full head of hair back...though that too darkened around the same time that I was learning life, a lot of the times, just isn't that easy.

Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, here’s a unique perspective on our universe. I agree with the author that it's a "best" short story (for me, second only to Doerr's The Hunter's Wife). I wish everyone on this planet could read it, and not just because it has a you-involuntarily-gasp-as-you-comprehend-the-final-sentence ending. So turn off the tv, settle into the comfy chair with your laptop, and get ready for a mindjob. For those of you who have read it, f-you for not telling me about it sooner.

Images: Above: Me with my orange hat that, if I still owned it, would be worn on every cold morning commute! Bottom: I took this photo of Sean Carroll, physicist and theorist from Los Angeles, giving a lecture on dark matter at a ranch in northern Wyoming.

Good Morning

2007-08-27T10:21:00.000-05:00

No matter how little sleep you got the night before, there's nothing more refreshing than waking up in your new apartment/house/condo/trailer. The new ways the morning sun reflects through a window NOT facing a brick wall...the smell of the roommates' coffee...the amamzing yellow paint color on the walls to greet your tired eyes...the OH MY GOD SOMEONE IS SPRAYING MACHINGE GUN FIRE ON THE STREET BELOW!!!!

Oh wait, that's just the construction crew working on the Diversey Brown Line renovation. Using a rivet machine. At 7am.

Note to self: Throw away alarm clock...no more use for it.

Why I Like the Information Age

2007-08-24T12:53:00.000-05:00

Because no matter how much I wondered, all my life, if this ever happened to anybody...I wouldn't have heard about it without reading blogs.

Where do you work?

2007-07-26T15:15:00.000-05:00

There is a medical emergency across the hall from my office. Literally. Six steps away, twelve med students are valiantly trying to rescuscitate what I imagine to be a very expensive mannequin. They are being critiqued as the bleeping heartrate begins to falter and flatline. I wonder if he has a family? And if so, were they created in part by that creepy plastic penis which I feel terribly guilty for spotting everytime I walk to the mailroom? (What? Mail's not here yet?) That also makes me wonder why they decided to include the penis and not just copy Ken? I guess maybe it helps them train to avoid distraction. Assuredly due to current job frustrations, I fantasize about walking into that room to immediately begin working toward my medical degree. My grandma once told me I'd be a fabulous surgeon, and I don't doubt her. Predictably, however, I'm choosing to just sit here, continue compiling packets for CPS teachers, and let the various E.R. reruns play in my head. (I stopped watching when he left).

Last weekend I watched Priscilla: Queen of the Desert for the first time ever. Rather than an in-depth me-style review, I'm going to suffice it to say "awesome." It was really enjoyable and all of a sudden I got an urge to roadtrip as well. That urge ended up translating to a hellish drive to La Grange to catch Spiderman 3 at a cheap-seat theater. I could also launch into a scathing review of suburban stereotypes (and the film), but I'd just be preaching to the choir, eh? You and I both know that no suburbanite would read this blog. They are too busy going to key parties and poisoning trees.

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2007-07-14T19:25:00.001-05:00

Where are we again?

On Chicago...

2007-07-13T12:50:00.000-05:00

"Once you've become a part of this particular patch, you'll never love another. Like loving a woman with a broken nose, you may well find lovelier lovelies, but never a lovely so real." - Carl Sandburg

What are your thoughts on this poem about the Windy City? I completely agree...I can't help but feel like I grew up here, even though I've only been here a cumulative 2.5 years. Maybe it has something to do with the city being located in the middle of the nation...or the fact I was raised in a more rural, less populated version of Logan Square.

Gomez @ the Vic

2007-07-12T16:59:00.000-05:00

Last spring, I was thrilled to attend Gomez at the Vic - great crowd and caught on tape. Watch near the sound booth - I'm cooing over all the songs with my coworkers SM and KA.

This gives you even more reason to make my blog your homepage ;)

07-07-07 Weekend

2007-07-10T11:24:00.000-05:00

There's something to be said about deliberately isolating you and eight of your closest and craziest friends at a cabin in BFE Wisconsin. You know going into it that you're going to possibly knock back a few too many beers, see a bit too much flesh, and walk away with a third-degree burn. I'm happy to report that I only escaped the latter. Despite the ten cases of beer and lost articles of clothing, I somehow managed to remember to continuously apply 8-spf sunblock, which sadly only darkened the embarassing shadow of my farmers tan.

Photo: It may be 9am, but those drinks definitely have liquor in them.

Highlights of the weekend include some misdemeanor b&e, observing the Milky Way and its shooting stars from the heart of the lake, and the hottub (duh, but minus those damn neighborhood hippies). All nine of us definitely "won" this weekend - as was expected - but the greater goal of getting away from the city and spending it with some of the coolest people on this earth made the resulting injuries and exhaustion all worth it. As with almost any vacation, I forgot to plan some other fun activity in the week after returning...so now I feel like slitting my wrists with nothing to look forward to.

Anyway, thanks friends. And some advice for 08-08-08: You better watch the fuck out.

Say no to Cannibalism

2007-07-05T13:34:00.000-05:00

I should have read this BEFORE eating lunch, rather than after.

Documentary on Font

2007-06-18T10:21:00.000-05:00

Looking to do something a little different, a friend Ashleigh and I ventured downtown on Friday. After a couple of great brews, an amazing bbq burger, and chili fries at Monk's Pub, we strolled over and caught a few minutes of Grant Park Orchestra and Chorus performing Mendelssohn's Elijah, Opus 70. I was surprised to see the entire Pritzker Pavilion PACKED (see prior crappy camera phone post) with people...families, groups of adults sipping wine, passer-bys. Great showing for so soon after the work day ended.

After strolling Millennium Park for a bit, we ventured on to the Gene Siskel Film Center where (thanks to Fuzzy Gerdes at Metroblogging Chicago) we had tickets to Helvetica. Though I'm not a graphic designer, typesetter, or artist, I found it really interesting. Chicagoist can give you a much better review, but I also recommend. Hurry, it only plays through June 21, 2007.

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2007-06-15T19:24:00.001-05:00

My First Blog

2007-06-13T12:30:00.000-05:00

Hi, I'm the new kid in class.

I'd like to thank the already millions of subscribers for finding enlightenment and entertainment within my daily musings, adventures, reviews, and life-altering epiphanies.

chevelin

Happy Prosperous Future

I just wanted popcorn and Dots

Sushi crime fighters

Never say never. Dare ya.

Neurology

Intervention

Catch-20/20 with no end in sight

Testic Lit, copied!

In a flurry of unpreparedness...

The Spirit Issue

Aliens in the ocean

Twinsies

Victory is sweet, even deep in the cheap seats...

Top 13 Testic Lit Reads of Summer 2008

Call for submissions: Testic Lit

You'll beg me not to leave you...

Who is cool? I am.

why not me?

Obesity in America

So pretty...

A Necessary Weekend

More Lazy, Here I Come

Guilt and Red Wine

A Face That Looks of Love Lost

"The Emissions Thing"

Finally, A Straight Answer

How Else Would I Cope?

The Death of Bunny (In Three Parts)

The Future of Reading

Meet A New Dinosaur

Bosses, Art, and Neuroscience

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Nostalgia

I Can Taste It

Festival of Maps

Another Example of Machinary Addiction

Why I Love Google, Part XVII

Not Meant To Last

I Almost Peed My Pants

"Not I," said the Duck.

How Fickle We Are

Perspective: Gravity=Curvature of Spacetime

Good Morning

Why I Like the Information Age

Where do you work?

Multimedia message

On Chicago...

Gomez @ the Vic

07-07-07 Weekend

Say no to Cannibalism

Documentary on Font

Multimedia message

My First Blog