Saturday, June 30, 2007

Slightly sweet, mostly bitter

Divine force guides the characters of Hoop Dreams, the 1994 documentary that follows the fates of two aspiring basketball players. By the end of the movie, you can foretell the futures of William Gates and Arthur Agee after their lives on screen.

The filmmakers initially find Gates and Agee as middle schoolers on the courts of south side Chicago. These talented ballplayers have been recruited to attend St. Joseph High School, a surburban, private Catholic school and basketball powerhouse. The overlord of St. Joe's basketball is Gene Pingatore, a Bobby Knight acolyte who propelled legendary point guard Isiah Thomas through the program and into the NBA. Thirsting to fill Thomas's shoes are Gates and Agee, and Pingatore yearns for a new star.

Fate takes over; Gates and Agee walk divergent paths. But the ghetto keeps them together. As much as they strive to overcome circumstance, adversity inhibits the fulfillment of their dreams. Many of the movie's surprises are startling because you expect the boys' lives to follow the Horatio Alger trajectory. Drugs, violence, abusive fathers--we think that hardworking dreamers don't succumb to the stereotypical problems everyone has heard of over and over, the problems that don't register except in the suburbanite's subconscious, as a 30 second clip on the local news.

When Gates and Agee triumph, we also rejoice, temporarily forgetting their insurmountable hurdles. But the slum always returns as a thicker and higher brick wall.

Hoop Dreams is hard to watch because the protagonists are controlled by unassailable forces. At the end of Gate's high school career, Coach Pingatore brashly comments, "One goes out the door, and another one comes in the door. That's what it's all about.'' As insensitive as the observation may be, we also remember how the ghetto invests its hopes in young hoopsters, how Gates's high school star turned minimum wage earning brother admits that he lives vicariously through his younger sibling. We witness Agee's mother trying to support three children on $280 per month, unable to pay the bills, living in dark except for the light of a portable lantern. There is no cure for the influence of a drug-dealing friend, or the non-support of a jailed or delinquent father, or public schooling that takes place in a de facto prison. Only miracles can redeem the protagonists, but miracles never happen in the ghetto.

As a revealing portrait of basketball and the crushing weight of urban poverty, I urge you to watch this masterpiece. And afterwords, I hope, you will have the inexorable desire to confirm your suspicions on where Gates and Agee have ended up today.

A Really Good Movie

Yesterday, I wrote about one of the worst movies I've seen in a long time--Fast Food Nation.

Today, I am going to write about one the best movies I've seen in a long time--Hoop Dreams.

Miller and I watched it last night and experienced the full spectrum of emotions. It was at times uplifting, depressing, and humorous. Though about basketball on the surface, it was more about the nearly insurmountable obstacles put in the way of inner-city youth.

The documentary follows the high school experiences of two Chicago boys--both with the dream of going to the NBA. I had the same dream when I was younger. However, for me the dream never became more than some far-off fantasy. For Arthur Agee and William Gates, the dream is the focal point of much of their early life.

This past Thursday, only 60 players were selected in the NBA draft. That's 60 out of thousands of college players, hundreds of thousands of rec. players. Yet, Arthur and William banked on going to the NBA. It was the only way they saw themselves leaving the inner-city and creating a better life for themselves and their family. Arthur and William are probably not unique in this respect. There are many other inner-city kids who put all their eggs in basketball. And if they're not one of the 60 athletes selected to the NBA, which is most likely the case, then back to the inner-city they go.

The movie explored the hypocrisy of the "student-athlete." The seeming impossibility of maintaining normal family life in the inner-city. The escape that sports can provide for the worst of situations. And the psychological effect of missing out on a dream and then attempting to live out that dream through someone else.

I can't guarantee that you'll feel all that great after watching this movie. It doesn't present the most uplifting view of things in America's cities. However, irregardless of this, you'll be glad that you watched it. It tells an extraordinary story.

Come on Down!

In case you haven't heard, Bob Barker is done at The Price is Right. After 35 years at the helm, he has decided to say goodbye to CBS, plinko, and the pretty ladies.

While I did not watch the show much, it was great for snow days when the only other shows on were soap-operas and reruns of Sportscenter.

I thought the show would die with Barker's retirement, but apparently it's going to live on. CBS is looking for a new host. Here are some suggestions:

Joaquin Pheonix: Has there ever been a more hated actor? Every time I see this guy on the big screen, I cringe. It's impossible to dissociate him from the brutal character he played in Gladiator. It would add an interesting subplot to a rather formulaic, repetitive show--is it possible for an actor to be forever trapped within an on-screen persona?

Xzibit: I would watch a pimped out Price is Right. Not only pimped-rides, but pimped lamps, golf clubs, microwaves...

Rosie O'Donnell: Just kidding. She'd be horrible.

Harold Reynolds: He is allegedly a great hugger, and 50 percent of the Bob Barker's job was simply hugging contestants.

Marc Summers: He was the lead personality on the greatest game-show ever (Double Dare), and with The Price is Right, he won't have to worry about getting dirty.

Steven A. Smith: To get him off of ESPN.

Selena Roberts: To get her out of The New York Times.

Barry Bonds: To get him to retire before breaking Hank Aaron's record.

Yi Jianlian: So the poor guy can make some money without having to go to Milwaukee.

Woody and Buzz Lightyear: I'm sure Pixar could pull it off.

Others: George Foreman, Gilbert Arenas, Vin Scully, Eva Longoria, Samuel L. Jackson, Mike Gravel, Harry Altman, Jerome Bettis, Cameron Diaz, Mr. Met

One More Reason To Like the Mets

From the blog Pick Me Up Some Mets comes this amusing, short clip from last night's game.

It's just another example of why the Mets are the most enjoyable team to root for in the MLB.



Gummy Cup Head
Uploaded by zhrice

(In case you were wondering, the cup is held on the hat by a big wad of gum. David Wright is one sneaky cat to accomplish all that without Castro noticing. That, or Ramon Castro does not have any feeling at the top of his head.)

Friday, June 29, 2007

A Really Bad Movie

A couple days ago Miller, I, and others decided to watch the bestseller turned movie Fast Food Nation.

When we first started it, I thought it was the movie about the guy who lived on fast food for a year. I was wrong. That's Supersize Me.

About ten minutes in, I thought it would be a powerful satire in the mold of Thank You For Smoking. Wrong again.

By about a half-hour in, I finally realized what type of movie it is. It is an awful movie, in the mold of Catwoman, The Dukes of Hazard, and Rocky Five.

The movie is sloooow, boring, and hopelessly unfocused. The producers of the film probably wanted me to be absolutely repulsed by fast food after watching it. However, my craving for fast food after watching this movie was just about as strong as after watching Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle.

I wanted to eat fast food to spite the people who made this horrible film.

The movie was stuck in an impossible position between comedy and drama. The basic plot was that there's sh**, spit, and even human body parts in the fast food Americans devour every day. The film bounced from one subplot to another. There were the illegal immigrants working in the meat packing factory. The hardworking teenager working at the fast food cash register. The hot-shot executive investigating the poop-filled meat.

It was extraordinary how every single scene in the movie went 20-30 seconds too long. All action in a scene would end and then the camera would just zoom in on nothing for half a minute.
I admittedly did not watch the whole movie. None of us did. We couldn't take it anymore. I'd probably rather knowingly eat sh** filled meat than have to sit through that entire movie.

Tonight, I plan on watching Hoop Dreams, which Roger Ebert ranked the best movie of the 1990s. I expect it to be a bit better than Fast Food Nation.

I Was Wrong

Hopefully I won't have to do this again, but I have to announce some corrections to this blog's contents.

First:

Kobayashi is ready and coming to Coney Island. At least, that is what his blog says. Here's an excerpt:

"Thanks to everyone's support, I am able to aggressively pursue treatment for my condition.
The Nathan's International Hot Dog Eating Contest is a competition that I love.
And I intend to do everything I can to treat this condition in what little time I have and to focus on the tournament.
I look forward to facing my fellow competitors on July 4th!"

While I'm glad to see he's coming, it's a shame that if he loses, everybody will be able to blame it on his messed up jaw.

(The above picture is from Kobayashi's blog)

Secondly:

I made a mistake in my cereal spellings. The only reason I know this, is that The New York Times had to make the identical correction. It is Froot Loops not Fruit Loops. I underestimaed the literary verve of the Kellog's cereal namers. They clearly took AP English Language and Composition.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Sherbert to Me

What's up with sorbet/sherbet/sherbert? Prior to today they were the same in my mind. Now they are as different as scrod, walleye, and whitefish.

JT's decrepit pocket dictionary differenciates between sorbet, sherbet, and sherbert by claiming that sorbet is an ice, sherbet is a diluted fruit drink, and sherbert is a frozen fruit juice that contains either milk, egg whites, or gelatin. The Columbia Guide to Standard American English is less picky, seeming to deride the etymologically-inclined sherbet "purists." The Guide reveals the interesting tidbit that Australians use sherbert as a word for beer. India's "National Newspaper," The Hindu, asserts that sorbet is a fruit puree or juice mixed with fine powdered sugar, while sherbet is a combination of milk, sugar, and fruit flavor. They discount sherbert entirely. Some know-it-all, blogging at Krunk4Ever, cites Webster's to demote sherbert to an alternative pronunciation and resorts to Wikipedia to solve the seemingly insoluble sorbet/sherbet/sherbert ingredients debacle.

Leave the other blogosphere pundits and their hearsay-dependent references to their own just deserts. Let's go straight to THE primary source.


Please crystallize the content therein and come to your own conclusion. But first, let me draw your attention to parts a, d, f, and g.

The web community concurs--there is a baseline compositional definition of sherbet. But it is not the paltry minimum commonly summarized as "milkfat content between one and two percent and a minimum density of six pounds per gallon." No!--America's sherbets are held to the highest and most exacting culinary and metric standards!

Sherbet is not merely "mixed with fine powdered sugar." The President of the United States mandates that "Sherbet is sweetened with nutritive carbohydrate sweeteners and is characterized by the addition of one or more of the characterizing fruit ingredients specified in paragraph (d) of this section or one or more of the nonfruit-characterizing ingredients specified in paragraph (e) of this section."

One also may not willy-nilly classify sherbet as "raspberry" or "rainbow." If one wants a fruit sherbet, "The name of each fruit sherbet is "___ sherbet", the blank being filled in with the common name of the fruit or fruits from which the fruit ingredients used are obtained. When the names of two or more fruits are included, such names shall be arranged in order of predominance, if any, by weight of the respective fruit ingredients used." If one desires to render a non-fruit sherbet, "The name of each nonfruit sherbet is "___ sherbet", the blank being filled in with the common or usual name or names of the characterizing flavor or flavors; for example, "peppermint", except that if the characterizing flavor used is vanilla, the name of the food is "___ sherbet", the blank being filled in as specified by 135.110(e) (2) and (5)(i)."

There are laws governing the universe, and as no one is exempt from gravity, no one may circumvent the statutes of sherbet. Let us elucidate these codes, and discover how they shape our lives.

NBA Draft 2007: Men Wearing Nice Suits and Making Lots of Money

The NBA Draft is my favorite non-athletic sporting event of the year. Unlike the MLB and NFL draft, which are incredibly long and filled with players I've never heard off, the NBA draft is the perfect length. It's short enough so that I've heard of almost all the players (not counting the foreigners), and also so I don't have to listen to the ESPN commentators too long.

Anyway, here are some thoughts I had while watching the draft:

-Greg Oden is hilarious. During their NBA careers, I'll watch Durant in the games and Oden during the press conferences. When asked why he was fidgeting his hands so much before being picked, Oden responded that he was cleaning his hands with a wipe. He had a cold, and didn't want Commissioner Stern to get sick.

-The Sonics just got two of the three best players in this draft--Durant and Jeff Green.

-The Sprite "subliminal" commercials are absolutely horrible. Sprite embraces the fact that their commercials make absolutely no sense. I'm not an advertising expert, but to me, this strategy makes absolutely no sense. Why not just advertise the fact that Sprite is a great soda?

-According to Fran Fraschilla, Yi JianLian "is hop-hop, he's 50 Cent." As far as I know, 50 Cent is not a seven foot, white, Chinese guy who's going to flop in the NBA.

-Who's the most irrelevant team in the NBA? I vote the Sacramento Kings.

-Jay Bilas just said Spencer Hawes, who was picked tenth in the draft, is not "athletic." I'd say the "non-athletic" b-ball players were weeded out a while ago. If someone who's not athletic can get drafted to the NBA, why didn't I sign up?

-There was just a commercial for the Home Run Derby. It's going to be great to have the derby in San Fran. The kayakers are going to be very busy.

-WOW! The Knicks got Zach Randolph. Too bad I stopped caring about the Knicks when Ewing left and Isiah came.

-Marco Belinelli--what a great name. (BTW, he was picked by Golden State, and he is from Italy).

Wow, I take back everything I said earlier. It's the 23rd pick now, and I can't take it anymore. This is just too boring to watch. If anyone watches the draft till the end (God help you), feel free to add your thoughts in the comment section.

Static Change

"Give a savage a complicated instrument like a chronometer or a sextant, and he uses it as a toy or an ornament. In Stalinist Russia, freedom was treated in the same way. Dead freedom became an ornament of the state, but one not without its uses. Dead freedom became the principal figure in a gigantic stage presentation, in a tremendous puppet show on an unbelievable scale."


In the mind of Vasily Grossman, the October Revolution was nothing but the newest stage of a 900 year march of "nonfreedom" in Russia. Centuries of czarist oppression instantaneously collapsed; replacing it was the purest incarnation of serfdom yet known to mankind.

"Implacable suppression of the individual ran continuously throughout Russia's thousand-year history. Slave subjugation of the individual to the state and to the sovereign. ... The shattering of Russian life carried out by Lenin was thoroughgoing. Lenin destroyed the way of life dominated by the outlook of the landed nobles; he destroyed the factory owners and merchants. Yet Lenin himself was a slave of Russian history, and he preserved that link between progress and slavery that has historically been Russia's curse."

As Russia slowly developed to the tune of the West through the 18th and 19th centuries, serfdom slowly intensified--only to be shattered by Alexander II. Into the void flowed a host of revolutionary Western ideas which destabilized and eventually toppled the throne.

But the nation of nonfreedom could not shake off its shackles. At first, the new state was a theoretical means to a utopian end. If liberty was to be sacrificed in the short-term, so be it. Quickly it became apparent that the state was a self-perpetuating end. In 1937, the radicals of 1917 were liquidated. Those who had swept the path of communism had become hindrances, anachronisms. The apparatus was set in motion.

"Lenin laid the foundations. Stalin erected the superstructure. And now the state without freedom has been put into operation."

Grossman was a victim of the third, "automated" stage of the communist succession. Born into a family of emancipated Ukranian Jews, Grossman studied mine engineering and worked in that profession until he devoted his life to writing. He was one of the luckier Soviet authors of the era. Although his father was a Menshevik and his common-law wife fell under the eye of the Great Purge, Grossman's socialist-realist early work was met with approval by the authorities.

Myopic and short in stature, the young writer was overlooked for military service upon the outbreak of the Great Patriotic War. Instead, he became a front-line journalist. Grossman's candid reporting for Krasnaya Zvezda, a military periodical, instantaneously won him the admiration of the soldiers of the Red Army. He accompanied that body on its struggle from Stalingrad to Berlin, witnessing most major operations firsthand and becoming one of the first to document the horrors of the Holocaust. An excellent assemblage of writing from his journey can be found in Writer at War.

Although he did not definitively know it at the time, his mother was one of those killed in the Holocaust. Along with almost 30,000 other Jews, she was shot outside the Grossmans' hometown of Berdichev. In a chapter of his greatest novel, Life and Fate, Grossman reconstructs his mother's fate through a letter to his semi-autobiographical main character.

Life and Fate is a searing indictment of the Soviet Union. Pre-dating One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by three years, Grossman's magnum opus demonstrates the congruence between Nazi Fascism and Soviet Communism. Upon presenting the manuscript for publication in 1959, the KGB raided his apartment and confiscated all traces of the book. Although Khrushchev's thaw was under way, the Party's ideological overlord, Mikhail Suslov, declared that the book would not be published for at least 200 years. Only in the 1980s did Andrei Sakharov and Vladimir Voinovich manage to smuggle photographic film of a hidden copy out of the Soviet Union to be published in the West.

After the unsuccessful publication of Life and Fate, Grossman became a non-entity in his nation. In 1963, one year before his death, Grossman completed his last novel, Forever Flowing. It was not to be published in the Soviet Union until 1989.


Grossman's grand historical narrative of nonfreedom in Russia touched upon at the beginning of this post occupies the last segment of Forever Flowing. It is an observation of Grossman's main character, Ivan Grigoryevich, who has returned to mainstream society after 30 years of torture, imprisonment, and hard labor. Ivan initially travels to Moscow, where he meets his cousin, Nikolai Andreyevich. Possessing false pride in never having abetted the implementation of Stalin's purges, Nikolai wants to confess his guilt through complacency to Ivan, but cannot muster the courage to atone. He and his petty wife are relieved when Ivan soon departs.

Thinking that St. Petersburg might provide an emotional haven, Ivan finds that history has moved on without him. The love of his life, who apparently stopped inquiring about him many years hence, was still alive and free while he suffered in the Gulag; although Ivan does not know it, the old and prosperous university comrade he encounters on the street was his chief denouncer. Longing to retreat into the solace of his childhood, Ivan makes his final peregrination of the book and turns south to a city near his birthplace on the Black Sea.

Grossman's protagonist barely ekes out a living at a factory that employs the handicapped and rents a nook in war widow Anna Sergeyevna's home. She is the only one who understands Ivan's suffering. In one chapter Anna provides a vivid account of her time working in a small Ukrainian Party bureau, when she witnessed the great famine following the liquidation of the kulaks. This story alone, fictional though it may be, discredits communism, autocracy, and indifference.

At two points in the book--once at the beginning in his mind, and once at the end in person--Ivan returns to his childhood home. It is a scar in the earth, like the Circassian villages destroyed by czarist conquest generations before. Soon nature will obliterate its remains forever. Like Ivan, it will leave no mark.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

The Top Five Pump-Up Songs of All Time

You're running a 5k road race. You're currently in 2nd place, about 10 seconds back from the leader. There's one kilometer to go before the finish. Suddenly, a car pulls up beside you, with massive speakers and a sub-woofer bouncing in back. What song do you want that car to be playing?

You're lifting in the gym, every one's watching--the football coach, the scouts, the cheerleaders. You have five more bench presses to go, but the lactic acid is already starting to build up and your muscles ache. Suddenly, a surround-sound, Dolby-digital speaker system appears beside you. What song do you want to hear?

You're taking a chemistry test. There are 50 multiple choice questions to go, and you only have 10 minutes left. You snuck an I-Pod into the exam room. What song do you want to hear at full blast?

This is one of the more important questions I will tackle on this blog, and one of the more difficult. There are so many songs. There's the rap pump-up songs, the jock jam pump-up songs, the heavy metal pump-up songs.

Please let me know if I left any song out--I am willing to revise this list, as I probably cannot remember every great pump-up song.

5. Lose Yourself, by Eminem
The crescendo is key. It starts off so gently and then slowly but surely explodes. The lyrics also play a very important role in making this such a great pump-up song. They allow you to put such a singular focus on the task at hand.

4. Remember the Name, by Fort Minor
Remember the beat--it is freaking awesome.

3. Get By--the Remix, by Talib Kwali featuring Kanye, Busta Rhymes, Mos-Def, and Jay-Z
This song is the total package. Great lyrics which you can understand. A chorus you can sing to (a very important feature of any great pump-up song). A fantastic beat. This song originally turned me on to rap, and it has turned me on time and again before a long run.

2. War, from the Rocky Soundtrack
Eye of the Tiger gets most of the attention, but this is the best pump-up song from Rocky. The greatest fifteen seconds in all of music begins at the 4 minute mark of this orchestral, synthesizer-filled medley.

1. Come With Me, by Puff Daddy (from the Godzilla soundtrack)
I really struggled with the rest of the list, but there is no question that this is the number one pump up song of all time. After listening to this, you could run through a wall. In case you haven't heard of the song, a YouTube clip of it is at the bottom of this post.

Honorable Mention: Eye of the Tiger, Encore--with Linkin Park and Jay-Z, Final Countdown, Highway to Hell, One Mic, Get that Dirt Off Your Shoulder, Meet the Mets

Others Worth Mentioning: Heat, Shake Your Tailfeather, The NBA Live 1998 Theme Song, Enter Sandman

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

The Olympic Torch Climbs Everest--What Next?

In today's Op-Ed of The New York Times, there was an article about how the Olympic torch relay will ascend to the summit of Mt. Everest. The writer derided the cause as another way sacred Mt. Everest is being destroyed by an influx of attention along with rich, ignorant, climbers.

To me, the idea seems pretty awesome. Managing to keep a torch lit all the way to the top of Everest--that is remarkable.

I just tried to list some cooler places an Olympic torch relay could go, but I honestly can't think of any. I was going to say the moon. And maybe under water somewhere. But the summit of Mt. Everest? That is redic.

Let us know where else you think the torch should go.

I've been thinking about this some more, and I still can't believe a torch is going to stay lit all the way to the top. I thought it was kind of hard to climb Mt. Everest (see: Into Thin Air). Don't you need two free hands?

No Juice for You

Recently, the Amherst College campus has been infested with hoards of campers. There's a soccer camp, tennis camp, football camp, day camp, even a "great books" camp.

I haven't had much interaction with the campers. Basically, they cause long lines in the dinning hall, so I don't really like them.

Any way, today, an awful scene took place in the dinning hall that actually made me feel some sympathy for at least a few of the campers.

I was in the drink area of the dinning hall, getting my standard two glasses of milk. I little boy, probably a five year old day camper, approached the juice dispenser with cup in hand. He began to reach up to get some Hi-C or Powerade, and then he was stopped.

"What are you doing here," a counselor, who appeared to be a high schooler, scolded him, "Today is a water day."

She didn't gently inform him of the silly rule. She forcefully reprimanded the kid, with eyes beaming down on his little, four-foot frame.

The kid walked away, close to tears.

First it was froot loops kids couldn't have. Now it is fruit juice.

What with the impending ethanol subsidies, it seems the vegetable lobby is kicking the fruit lobby's butt.

Monday, June 25, 2007

The Vegan Dessert Question of the Week!

First off, congratulations to Esteban, the winner of last week's question of the week. He came up huge in the clutch, when it seemed like no one would respond.

Today's question of the week is a simple question gone awry: Paper or Plastic?

When I was little, the answer seemed very clear--choose plastic in almost every situation because it's easier to carry and it doesn't kill trees. Back then, debates surrounding the environment were so clear--something was environmentally friendly if it didn't kill tree and something was environmentally unfriendly if it did kill trees.

Now there's global warming along with energy Independence to worry about, and the question of paper v. plastic has gotten much more complicated.

Plastic apparently uses oil to be produced and also somehow contributes to global warming in the production process. I just came across an article that says Ikea is now charging a nickel for a plastic bag in all their American stores.

Please, help me. What do you do--Paper or Plastic--and why?

I Am No Longer Looking Forward to the Fourth of July

There used to be two givens for the Fourth of July--fireworks at night and Takeru Kobayashi eating lots of hot dogs during the day.

A few years ago, in my town at least, the firworks were moved to July 2nd or 3rd to save money.

This year, both the fireworks and Kobayashi will be gone.

According to Kobayashi's blog, "My jaw refused to fight anymore," and he will not be competing at Coney Island. We're going to have to trust Deadspin.com on this quote, since Kobayshi's blog is written in question marks. Maybe he should spend a little less time strengthening his arms, and little more time building up his jaw.

For anyone not familiar with the competitive eating scene, Kobayashi actually had a chance of losing this year. American Joey Chestnut ate 59.5 hot dogs in twelve minutes earlier in June, setting a new World Record. The previous record was 53.75 hot dogs, set by Kobayashi in 2006. This year, the Coney Island contest was set to be an Ali v. Frazier, Nadal v. Federer type bout. Instead, we're going to have to watch Chestnut dominate, and the Sonya "Black Widow" Thomas come in a distant second.

A Fourth of July Vegan Dessert eating contest is in the very early planning stages--we'll give you more details as the date approaches. Let us know what you want to eat.

Derailed?

"Give me snuff, whiskey and Swedes, and I will build a railroad to hell."

So stated railroad baron James J. Hill, a man who exerted unparalleled influence on the swath of land lying between Lake Superior and Puget Sound, America's breadbasket. "Work, hard work, intelligent work, and then more work" was his mantra. In 1852, at the age of 14, Hill was forced to plow a path of economic self-sufficiency due to the death of his father. After four years working as a clerk in Canada, the future millionaire moved to Saint Paul to become the bookkeeper of a steamboat company. Exploiting the lack of steamboat service on the Mississippi during winter months, Hill started providing fuel to local customers like Fort Snelling. Upon accruing market power in the local steamboat industry by age 34 and anthracite coal by 36, the young entrepreneur expanded his scope to the railroads.

A Great Boardgame

In 1873, the tech bubble of the 19th century popped. Lasting for the next four years, the recession was precipitated by the bankruptcy of Jay Cooke and Company. A wealthy Philadelphia speculator, Cooke became overextended by capital investments in the incipient Northern Pacific Railway. Of the country's 364 railroads, 89 went broke. One of those was the Saint Paul and Pacific. Realizing that there was still growth potential in this moribund railway, James J. Hill formed a team of investors and purchased the StP&P. Hill was a careful manager, personally scouting new routes and avoiding government regulation by reinvesting a large percent of the company's profit as capital expenditure and charging it as operating expense.

In direct competition with the Northern Pacific, Hill's railroad had a significant hurdle to surmount. To reach larger markets, it was key to stretch the track across the Rockies to the West Coast. The Nothern Pacific became transcontinental in 1883 at Gold Creek, Montana. For Hill's line to span the Rockies, it needed a low-lying route, of which almost none remained. In 1889, Hill's principal engineer, John F. Stevens, mapped the unexplored Marias Pass in northern Montana, thereby providing a navigable path across the Continental Divide. By 1893, Hill had completed the first transcontinental railroad without public money, renaming it the Great Northern Railway.

In the next decades, the Great Northern survived a string of squeezes. First was the Depression of 1893, where Hill's was the only transcontinental railroad that did not go bankrupt. Second was the battle for the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy, a medium-sized railway that provided lucrative access to Chicago markets. Shares of the Northern Pacific, which owned significant stake in the CB&Q, were quietly being cornered by Edward Harriman and the Union Pacific. When Hill found out about the subterfuge, he directed his friend J.P. Morgan to buy every remaining share of UP stock. Morgan acted so swiftly that overnight, the price of the stock traded at over six times its value of the previous day. The crisis was defused with a compromise, but to prevent another stock raid, Hill placed all of his holdings into the consolidated Northern Securities Company. Simultaneously, Theordore Roosevelt ascended to the presidency, and the Sherman Antitrust Act was quickly implemented to break apart Northern Securities. Although Hill lost control of a centralized company, he continued to make acquisitions until his death in 1916.

The year of the Empire Builder's death, railroads reached peak length in America. Beside brief resurgences due to troop transport in the World Wars, the wholesale emergence of the automobile and airplane doomed passenger travel by rails. Overinvestment, supersaturation of the market with competing firms, mismanagement, and new forms of competition crippled freight transport by rail for most of the 20th century. Railroad historian Richard Saunders writes that, "The real problem was that there were fewer and fewer services that railroads could perform as well as their competitors for which anyone would pay enough for the railroads to make a profit."

Another difficulty for the industry was overzealous regulation. As early as the late 19th century, the Interstate Commerce Commission unsuccessfully regulated railroads in an attempt to prevent local price discrimination. Insteady, according to economist Maury Klein, the Interstate Commerce Act "tried both to prevent monopoly by enforcing competition and to outlaw discrimination. ... [H]owever, a policy designed to preserve competition also perpetuated discriminations." Although the result of Hill's and Harriman's mergers at the turn of the 20th century "came remarkably close to the railroad map that emerged in the 1970s," the efficient conglomerates were quickly dismantled by a distrustful public. In 1920, the Transportation Act forced railroads to maintain or expand mileage to foster competition, although the lessons of the previous decades demonstrated that eliminating service is the best course of action for unsuccessful lines. "The act of 1920 bound [the railroads] in a straightjacket of regulation at precisely the time they fell victim to technological revolution. For seventy years, railroads had dominated the transportation industry because no new forms had risen to challenge them. After 1920, however, several new modes appeared on the scene, and older ones like pipelines and water transport were reinvigorated." With the swift advent of the internal combustion engine and light alloys, railroads suddenly faced unpredicted, intermodal competition.

After World War II, the railroads fell off the cliff. It was a surprising decline, due to the artificial boost the War had provided to the industry. But new competition was taking its toll, and high-value freight and passenger transportation were being gobbled up by trucking and air travel. "The Weeks Committee among others discovered in 1955 what some industry people had been shouting since 1920: the railroads had long since ceased to be a monopoly threat and need not be clamped so rigidly in regulatory irons."

For the next 35 years, the shackles were slowly melted away, culminating in the Staggers Act deregulation of 1980. The majority of railroads died in the process, leaving a small band of powerful, consolidated companies. Along with corporate weight loss came the deactivation of a substantial quantity of the nation's tracks.

During the period of deregulation, Great Northern and Northern Pacific merged into Burlington Northern Santa Fe Railroad, the second largest railroad in the nation, and now the largest by market capitalization. Burlington Northern and four other railroads control 93 percent of the revenue of rail freight transport in the United States.

Historically, the railroads have been treated as cyclical industries by the stock market, meaning that short-term up- and downturns in the economy are reflected in the price of railway stock. Recently, this trend seems to be changing. Secular trends like agriculture and coal now trump cyclical markets. The United States has an insatiable demand for coal, and, if anything, the cheap, alternative fossil fuel hedges the railroads in an economic slump.

Legendary investor Warren Buffett just made a three billion dollar bet in BNSF on the long-term railroad forecast. For decades, railroads have run low returns on capital--the most important railroad statistic, since 40 cents per dollar of railroad earnings are spent on capital investment. For the first time in a long while, railroads are getting a return on invested capital of more than the cost of the capital investment, thereby justifying future investment of earnings. The tracks were laid almost a century ago--now it is time for investors to harvest Hill's fruits.

Another reason to like the rails is because of increased fuel costs. Locomotives are far more fuel efficient than their chief transport competitor, trucks. If the price of gasoline continues to trend upward, railroads will continue to benefit at the expense of trucking by running locomotives as diesel-electric powered.

Finally, the United States has an insatiable demand for cheap foreign goods transported to domestic markets via container ship, truck, and train. With container ships now able to carry 8,500 standard 40-foot containers, each with a capacity of 26,500 kg (29.15 tons), the transportion costs of Asian goods have become substantially minimized. Long-distance intermodal land transportation is exclusively dependent on rails, and 15 percent of railroad revenues now come from that source.

For 150 years, the rails rode a roller coaster of boom and bust. Finally, the snuff, whiskey and Swedes are ready; the railroads can finally escape from hell.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

The European Space Agency Will Pay You to Go to Mars

The European Space Agency is simulating a trip to Mars, and they want you to lead the mission.

From the "Week in Review" of today's New York Times comes a short article about the European Space Agency's attempt to get participants for the 17 month long experiment. According to the brief, particpants will live in a "module of interconnected metal tanks," earning about $160/day. This comes out to roughly $58,ooo/year and $82,000 for the duration of the trip.

Something tells me that a new reality show is looming.

I would consider taking part in the experiment under three conditions:
1. I get an unlimited supply of muffins while on-board
2. I can bring the complete DVD set of "The Sopranos" (I really want to see it now)
3. This astronaut is not allowed on the trip

If the Space Agency simply allows participants to play "World of Warcraft," I'm sure thousands of people will be willing to particpate. What's better: playing "World of Warcraft" 100 hours a week in your mother's basement or playing "World of Warcraft" 100 hours a week in a simulated space capsule?

Here is a link to the ESA website in case you're interested.

Tower of Power!

(Photo by Michel Vonlanthen at www.jazzphone.ch).

I just returned from Freihofer's Jazz Festival at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center. Currently, day two of the event is ongoing, but my parents and I decided to only go to the first day. The reason for this was simple--Tower of Power! performed yesterday only.

I've been wanting to see Tower of Power! since the seventh grade, when my middle school jazz band played "What is Hip?" Yesterday, finally, I was able to feel the power.

However, given the poor behavior of the audience, I feel like an apology is in order to the group. Here it goes:

Dear Tower of Power!,

I was at your concert last night. It was awesome. Hip. Powerful. When you played "Diggin' On James Brown" I honestly felt a tear coming down my cheek. It could have been due to the wind (I have really sensitive eyes), but I actually think it was from hearing you guys for the first time, after over six years of waiting.

Your dancing was fantastic. Funky Doctor (the baritone saxist) was hilarious. Your lead singer was so good he even impressed my mom.

Yet, for some reason, the amphitheater was half empty when you played. People were trickling out in the middle of songs. The atmosphere was pretty much dead as you played.

I want to apologize for this. You deserve much better.

You came onto the stage after a very long day of jazz, some which was incredibly inspiring, some which was not. David Sanborn on the saxaphone was fantastic. Jean-Luc Ponty on the jazz violin was surprisingly good. Yet, the Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey was dull and melodyless--they clearly thought they were too cool for school. The Ray Haynes Quartet, while good, was simply too small and calm to fill such a large amphitheater.

And then there was George Benson. He came on right before you. He was once good (so my mom tells me). He was once a pop-star. Now he's old and not very good at all.

When Benson was playing, the crowd was dancing all around, singing the words to his old hits. They were living vicariously through the aging Benson, remembering the days when they were younger and listened to his hits on record or radio.

At around 9:30, you guys came on, and the crowd was emotionless and half-empty. Apparently, many people came to simply see Benson and then left.

You deserve much better. Your performance was one of the greatest live performances I have ever seen. The music, the dancing, the personality--you guys are the real deal.

This coming fall, when I have to vote for a Spring Concert performer here at Amherst, you're definitely going to be my write-in candidate.

Now, finally, I know what hip is. You group is the definition of hip.

Thanks,

JT

For anyone unfamiliar with Tower of Power!, here is a clip of them playing their hit "What is Hip?" at the 2006 Montreal Jazz Festival with Carlos Santana. Their performance last night was very similar, minus Santana and the full crowd.


On the Topic of Jazz

Last semester, JT and I turned this video into something of an Amherst tradition. Active from the 1950s until his death in 1977, Rahsaan Roland Kirk was a blind master of multiple instruments. His ability to play more than one instrument simultaneously was often dismissed as showmanship, but Kirk insisted that he was trying to emulate sounds in his mind. In the video, he plays two saxophones at once; in other performances he often played three. Although his main instrument was the tenor saxophone, he also mastered the straight alto sax, or stritch, and the curved soprano sax, or manzello. As a young player, he discovered as discarded one of each of these instruments and realized that they fit well into his mouth beside the tenor sax. Kirk avidly explored a variety of other instruments, including clarinet, trumpet, harmonica, english horn, nose flute, recorder, gong, conch shell, whistle, siren, alarm clock, graden hose, and flute, which one hears him play in Quincy Jones's "Soul Bossa Nova," the Austin Powers themesong. This video of "Volunteered Slavery" captures Kirk's unparalled ability to circular breathe, the method of storing a reserve of air in the cheeks to blow out while inhaling so as not to interrupt the stream of music. This video, although over 10 minutes long, gets progressively more exciting. Enjoy!

Saturday, June 23, 2007

I Have to Go Get a Soul Vaccination, Will Be Back Tomorrow

Today will be my first day off from this blog as I will soon head off for the Freihofer Jazz Festival at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center.

Among others, George Benson and Tower of Power! will be performing. It should be a very hip affair.

I will provide an account of the festival tomorrow evening. Until then, I shall be computerless and Miller will be in complete control of The Vegan Dessert.

Have a very good weekend; I'm sure Miller will have some great posts.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Finally a Good Movie

The most entertaining documentaries are those that could be mockumentaries if you didn't know otherwise. This is the case with Spellbound, a tale of eight logophiles who compete at the National Spelling Bee.

Christopher Guest could not have created a better cast of characters. There is the Machine, Neil Kadakia, whose multimillionaire father quizzes him on 8,000 words per day, hires Spanish and French tutors, and pays 1,000 Indians to pray for victory at the National Bee. There are the two minority underdogs--Ashley White, an African American from the projects of Washington, D.C., and Angela Arenivar, the daughter of an illegal immigrant farmhand who doesn't speak a word of English. There is the spaz, Harry Altman, whose nerdy hee-haw laughter, steroidally recounted jokes, and broad repertoire of facial contortions make him simultaneously lovable and beat-upable. There is the multitalented Indian, Nupur Lala, whose comparative blandness is supplemented by the three stooge-like geeks she barely bested at the regional spelling bee. There is Emily Stagg, the prep-school trained, New Haven dwelling polo player whose yuppiesque hyper-maturity is annoying on a middle schooler. There is Ted Brigham, the reclusive Missourian obsessed with weapons whose family raises peacocks and wears shirts adorned with the stars and bars. Finally, there is April DeGideo, a favorite of JT and mine, whose pessimism-driven self-motivation seems to transcend her parents' blue collar roots. A slew of scintillating minor characters adds further zest to this smorgasboard of personalities.

Spellbound not only documents unique members of disparate American communities but also the communities themselves. The racism of the South, the snobbery of the Northeast, the opulence of Orange County, the drear of the Rust Belt--all are succinctly captured in their most potent forms.

JT and I are not fans of the cinema. In fact, last night was the first time in living memory either of us had seen a good movie. It gives us hope that in the future, we will muster the money and courage to see another.

My Top Five Fruits

If you scroll down to the previous post, you may see that my partner Miller has listed his favorite five fruits.

However, maybe you shouldn't scroll down at all, because the list is seriously flawed. He has two fruits that I've never actually seen someone eat whole--lime and avocado. He has one fruit that is as insubstantial as food gets--grapefruit. And then, to take all credibility out of his list, he has kiwi number one. This is like ranking Clifford the Big Red Dog as the novel of the century.

Here is my attempt to put some common sense into this debate. I love fruit, and I don't want anyone to be discouraged by Miller's peculiar taste.

First, I'll list out the criteria I took into account for my list. In addition to taste, I considered:
-convenience
-fun factor (the enjoyment derived from eating the fruit)
-color
-durability (what lasts in a backpack the longest without being mashed)
-accessibility (how easy it is to find in a supermarket)

5. Cantaloupe
Probably the most underrated fruit on this list. I love how it feels when you bite down on a nice, firm piece of cantaloupe. The one big problem with this fruit is that it's not all that convenient. In high school, I don't think I ever saw someone come in with a cantaloupe in their lunch box.

4. B-A-N-A-N-A-S

When I was little, I was literally horrified by the texture of bananas--they were too mushy. Yet, once I overcame this fear, bananas became a staple of my diet. What breakfast is complete without a banana? It's also great how you can tell exactly how ripe a banana is by simply looking at it. You don't have to feel how firm it is or cut it open--it is perfectly OK to judge a banana by its cover. Gwen Stefani did a noble service by advertising this fantastic fruit.

3. Pineapples
Good canned or fresh, pineapple is an excellent vegan dessert option. CAUTION: do not eat this fruit with milk.

2. Apples
The second best food on the planet.

I probably have averaged two apples/day since I was about five years old. Apples are the perfect snack. An apple can be left in a backpack for weeks, yet still stay fresh and firm (go ahead, try it). There is also such amazing variety--Granny Smith, Red Delicious, Golden Delicious. You can go across the color spectrum and taste spectrum while still staying in the apple genre. It is also a lot of fun to chuck an apple core into the woods once you're finished with it--very empowering.

1. Grapes
The best food on the planet.

Fun to eat (how many grapes have you fit in your mouth?), fantastically smooth and moist, surprisingly filling. I challenge you to tell my any food that is better than a bunch of grapes.

Honorable Mention: Nectarine

Most Overrated: Kiwi, Raspberry, Lime, Grapefruit, Avocado, and Strawberry

(All photos from www.tomarma.com)

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Top Five Fruits of All Time


To celebrate my live return from the field, I have decided to address an important facet of my life--fruit. Fruit is not only healthy but also delicious, thereby differentiating the dietary group from its adjacent planty counterpart on the food pyramid. My taste in fruit tends more towards the sour side, but I'm sure that JT will soon regale you with his more mundane list.

1. Kiwi.
Indisputably my favorite, the only downfall of this fruit is that when combined with milk, kiwi becomes unpalatable. The fruit's exterior fur is dissimilar to the skin of any other. Interiorly, kiwis possess a slightly tougher and sweeter core surrounded by a ring of edible seeds embedded in a more sour green matrix. Besides grapefruit, which comes later on my list, kiwi is the only fruit of which I know that gets its own utensil--the kiwi spoon, or spife. The spife has a rigid enough blade to saw through the fuzz and center of a kiwi with ease, allowing the connoisseur to shape her fruit into a polygonal solid.

2. Raspberry.
A close second, raspberries have many kiwiesque qualities. Small and indestructible seeds provide texture, a little hair covers the outside, and the pH is low enough to burn a canker sore. The nodular nature of the fruit allows for many dissection planes. The small central cavity is another source of raspberry amusement. Sharing the name raspberry is a rude form of expectoration that also plays an important role in my life. When I was four, my father taught me how to raspberry. Excited by my new skill, I decided to share the joy with a crotchety old lady at a buffet later that week by raspberrying in her soup. That is the closest I have come to excommunication from my family.

3. Lime.
This filamentous fruit bitterly takes bronze. Not only excellent in conjunction with prepared dishes, lime is surprisingly good when eaten alone. Introduced to the fruit by my grandmother, I have been a proponent of freestanding lime since a young age. She often placed a slice of the fruit alongside her famous avacado garnished salads.

4. Avocado.
Also advocated by my grandmother, avocado was an acquired taste for me. Not until a friend placed the fruit on a melted cheese sandwich did I see the light. A perfect avocado possesses a skin peelable into two or three pieces. After slicing longitudinally, one may caressingly twist the fruit into two parts around the smooth pit. Avacado is perfect on a variety of food, including blue corn tortilla chips and turkey sandwiches (a point my collaborator will surely protest).

5. Grapefruit.
The perfect breakfast item. After slicing the fruit in half widthwise, I recommend cutting around the perimeter to separate the meat from the rind, and then cutting between individual sections. After this efficient procedure, one can eat each section in turn without worrying about labor-intensive hassling. After the fruit is hollowed, one should press the grapefruit spoon against the inside skin to coax out the hidden juices. Although eating grapefruit requires significant effort, the ends justify the means.

Happy Summer Solstice!

If you look outside your window right now, you might notice that it's light out. Kind of strange to be light out at eight? Well, today's the longest day of the year!

In honor of the very important day, I have compiled a list of some other long things:

Longest Baseball Game Ever: 26 innings. It happened May 1, 1920 when Boston tied Brooklyn 1 to 1.

Longest Dinosaur: 130 ft. The creatively named Supersaurus.

Longest Painting: 5 km. Painted by 5000 Iranians in August of 2006.

Longest Professional Tennis Match: 6 hours and 32 minutes. Johny Mac came out on top, beating Mats Wilander in the 1982 Davis Cup Quarterfinals.

Longest Hot Dog: 104.75 ft.

Longest Wall of Fire
: 1.127 km. Constructed by an Australian Explosives team in 2005.

Longest Banana Split: 4.55 miles. Cooked up by residents of Selinsgrove, PA on April 30, 1988.

Longest Sausage
: 13 1/8 miles.

Enjoy the holiday--don't party too hard.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Man vs. Beast

While you were busy watching the Sopranos, Sex in the City, and PTI, the Discovery Channel has quietly become a heck of a Television channel.

Long gone are the days of dull documentaries about the Serengeti, Otters, or insects. With Mythbusters, Dirty Jobs, and Man v. Wild, the Discovery Channel has developed some great brands. I haven't seen any of Planet Earth yet, but have heard from many that it is amazing.

Man v. Wild credits extra attention. The show is incredible. In the show, one man, Bear Grylls, takes on the World. He gets placed into rain forests, deserts, and frozen tundras and simply tries to survive.

There are certain questions that pervade every episode: how is the camera man sticking with Bear? Where is Bear trying to go? How is Bear such a survival machine? These questions are part of what makes the show so fantastic.

Bear treats the show as an educational tool, as if we, the viewers, may soon be stranded in a desert and need to pee on our heads to cool off. Or eat a decaying Zebra for food.

I'm not sure how much longer the series is going to continue. There are only so many places Bear can go. I suggest you turn to the Discovery Channel ASAP.

Here is a quick clip that epitomizes the show's greatness:

WTF, Mets?

The Mets just lost again, falling to the Twins 6-2.

That makes their record 4-14 for the month. They've lost 6 consecutive series.

If I didn't have this blog to distract me, I'd be quite depressed. Nonetheless, I am pretty upset.

Since the start of June, the starters have come back to earth, the bullpen has fallen apart, and the batters have forgotten how to bat.

Admittedly, the Mets schedule has been quite difficult the last few weeks, espcially with inequiable interleague play. They've played the Yankees, the Dodgers, the Diamondbacks, the Phillies, the Tigers, and the Twins this week--all formidable teams. Yet this is no excuse.

A .500 record against these teams would have been perfectly acceptable. A .285 record is not.

Sometimes batters have hard times, sometimes pitchers lose it for a while, but for a whole team to go into a slump, for this long? It doesn't make sense, and it's starting to piss me off.

Wake up Willie! Let's start getting people out Glavine! Learn to hit Carlos'! You made it to game seven of the NLCS last year. Now, it looks like you don't even deserve to get to the first round.

(The picture comes by way of nyc.metblogs.com)

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

The Not So Random You-Tube Video of the Week

Once Miller returns to this blog, assuming he does, you'll probably learn from him that he is a big fan of classical music. Also, he is not a big fan of rap.

Thus, before he gets home from his paleontology dig, I thought it would be appropriate to post a Youtube of Kanye West's new single "Stronger" (there is no music video).

This song has special significant to this blog. Every night, for at least the past week, I have listened to this song before beginning my blog posts. I prance around me room, waving my hands, and pretending to know the words. It is a lot of fun and gets my focused for the important task ahead of me.

The Vegan Dessert Question of the Week!

First off, congratulations to last week's winner: "g." He knew the story behind whole, 2%, and skim milk. Here is his answer:

"In two percent milk, two percent of the total contents of the milk is fat. It does not mean that the milk contains only two percent of the fat that it normally contains. Whole cow's milk is around four percent fat. So two percent has about fifty percent of the fat that normal milk does.

As you can see, I've asked myself the same question before. Where's the 50% milk?

By the way, did you hear about the cow that produces low fat milk, straight from the udder? Pretty wild. "

As for today's question, it is a bit more abstract:

It is illegal to speed. On some highways, this means it is illegal to drive over 55 miles/hour. On others, it is illegal to drive over 65 miles/hour. Maybe some, it is illegal to drive over 80 miles/hour. I just went out to my car, and the speedometer goes up to 120 miles/hour.

Why?

It is certainly not legal anywhere in the United States to drive this fast. Why are there not regulations to limit how fast cars can go?

I'm sure Porsches, Ferraris, and many other cars can go significantly faster than my faithful Oldsmobile. To me, this doesn't make sense. The reason speeders are ticketed in the first place is that speeding is dangerous. It leads to accidents, injuries, and sometimes death. Rather than relying on police officers to catch speeders, why not just regulate cars so that they cannot speed? Set a cap of 80 miles/hour or something around there. I'm sure this will upset loads of high schoolers, weavers, and car aficionados, but to me, it is a matter of common sense.

Please give me your thoughts on this tangent. There is no correct answer, though the best commenter, as always, will be rewarded with a nice, warm handshake.

Thank you in advance for participating.

In Case you Missed It: How the Soprano's Really Ended

As I mentioned a little more than a week ago, I never watched the Sopranos--don't get HBO.

However, with all the talk on the web, in the papers, and on TV about the ending (non-ending?), I really want to see the last show. What was it like in the diner? How long did "Don't Stop Believing" go for? Was the black screen up for nine or ten seconds?

Though the ending may have upset fans of the show who had been watching it for years, it surely peaked interest in the show for those who never watched it before (see: DVD sales).

Today, on two different websites, I came across apparent endings to the show. Here is one, courtesy of Deadspin.com:



Here is another ending, courtesy of Hillary Clinton. (You'll have to go to the site to view it, I cannot embed it). Though I have not put support behind any Presidential Candidate, and this is not meant to endorse Clinton as a candidate, I have to say that Sen. Clinton was on the ball with this spot. It doesn't get across any message at all, yet still, it is so creative and unlike anything I've ever seen a candidate churn out. It's not negative in any way but simply witty.

However, for some reason, at the very end of Clinton's video, the screen goes black. Maybe my Internet went down. I'll have to check that out; I'm kind of pissed off.

Monday, June 18, 2007

One Last Post About Golf

So yesterday, when writing about the golf U.S. Open Championship, I failed to say anything about the winner of the event, and only wrote about Tiger Woods.

This was a mistake; my bad.

At the time of that post, I knew that Argentinian Angel Cabrera had won the event, however I did not know this:

He smoked 8-10 cigarettes during the final round of the tournament.

I am pretty sure he had 8-10 hot dogs the night before the final round of the tournament, though I have not read this anywhere.

(Thanks to Deadspin for informing me that Cabrera is even more unhealthy than I thought)

I Don't Think this is What Kanye West Had in Mind

During Middle School, I played fantasy baseball on smallworld.com. Each participant got something like 50 million dollars and would have to put together a a team that fit all the position requirements (the key was to have a pitching staff full of closers). Once the season started, you could only make a limited number of roster changes--maybe three a week.

I remember that one year, Smallworld introduced a feature in which you could purchase extra waiver moves. For a dollar, you could make one more trade than anyone else. This completely undercut the idea of fantasy baseball; it's supposed to be about knowledge, not money. Of course, people in my league did buy trades, though I'm sure I ended up winning.

Anyway, by way of The New York Times Magazine comes an incredibly bizarre and disturbing article about how online gaming has followed this same, capitalist path to a remarkable extent.

Titled "The Life of the Chinese Gold Farmer," the article describes the sale of virtual money in "massively multiplayer online role-playing games" such as World of Warcraft.

It details the lives of professional gamers in China who work for twelve hour shifts, 7 days a week, collecting gold coins in World of Warcraft, only to be sold to those who are too lazy to collect the coins themselves. The workers get paid as a function of the coins they collect and have "daily production quotas."

There is apparently a multi-million dollar business for virtual money. Multiple websites are devoted to the exchange of real money for money that which can only be seen on computer screen. Thousands of companies in China are devoted to collecting virtual coins, guns, and gear to sell to the highest bidder.

"For players lacking time or patience for the grind, there has always been another means of acquiring virtual loot: real money. From the earliest days of M.M.O.’s, players have been willing to trade their hard-earned legal tender — dollars, euros, yen, pounds sterling — for the fruits of other players’ grinding," author Jullian Dibbell writes.

This practice has been given an official name: Real Money Trading (R.M.T.), and the workers have been dubbed "Gold Farmers."

In probably the most entertaining portion of the article, Dibbell describes how the Chinese Gold Farmers are often hunted down in the game by regular players who know that they're collecting gold later be sold.

"In part because gold farmers’ hunting patterns are so repetitive, they are easy to spot, making them ready targets for pent-up anti-R.M.T. hostility, expressed in everything from private sarcastic messages to gratuitous ambushes that can stop a farmer’s harvesting in its tracks. In homemade World of Warcraft video clips that circulate on YouTube or GameTrailers, with titles like 'Chinese Gold Farmers Must Die' and 'Chinese Farmer Extermination,' players document their farmer-killing expeditions," Dibbell writes.

I would love to know if some professional athletes are dishing out hundreds of thousands of dollars for the virtual money.

If you want more, check out the slide show that comes after the article. It presents the players of interactive online games alongside the characters they play as.

When the Dessert is Served: A Public Service Announcement

This blog was born approximately two weeks, and I wanted to take this time now to tell you, our many highly respected readers, that it is going to be around for a while.

This blog is building (I can feel it in my gut), and there's no way we're going to give it up now.

Anyway, now that I've gotten that out of the way, I want to make an important announcement. I know some of you probably checked our blog today two, three, ten times while you were bored at work or home. You may have noticed that the blog was the same each time you checked.

The reason for this is that on weekdays, both Miller and I work in labs, and thus cannot post until we get back from work. Monday through Friday, we start posting at around six p.m. and then continue through the night. I recommend that on weekdays, you check this blog as a nice dessert before you go to bed, or a sweet, wake up dessert once you rise from bed.

As for the weekends, check it out whenever you want, since our only work during the weekend if writing this blog.

If you have any suggestions for this still very young venture, please let me know in the comments section.

Also, Miller should be arriving home from his geology adventure in the next few days. Then you'll be able to hear much more of him and less of me.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Tiger Falls Just Short, Someone Else Wins

Tiger Woods took 2nd at Today's U.S. Open, ending with a final score of +6.

I could say who took first, but I honestly don't care.

I have never played a round of golf in my life. Up to about ten years ago, I considered watching golf on TV just about as boring as watching grass grow.

When Tiger came along, everything changed. There was now a reason to watch golf; I could watch history being made.

Tonight, as with every other major, I rooted hard for Tiger.

I've grown up during the steroid era of baseball, the invisible era of the NHL, the over-the-hill years of the NBA.

In golf, as well as tennis, I actually have a chance to watch the greatest player ever. I root so hard for Tiger because I want him to indisputably be the greatest ever. I want to be able to live during the career of the greatest player of a sport, even if it is one I have never played.

I do somewhat remember the years of MJ, but I was really too young to appreciate what I was seeing. In Tiger, I fully embrace the greatness.

Sports fans are often derided for jumping on the band-wagon, for being "fair-weather" fans. When it comes to Tiger Woods, and the sport of golf as a whole, I will not deny that I have jumped on the band-wagon. I have jumped on the band-wagon which I hope continues to steer itself up to the top of the history books.

(The picture comes by way of deadspin.com. It is of a young Tiger Woods with his father, Earl Woods)

Twinkies go B-A-N-A-N-A-S

Since this blog is named for desserts, and the Twinkie is the quintessential American dessert, I thought I should report this very important story:

There are now banana cream filled Twinkies.

Maybe I shouldn't be posting this information, since I'm indirectly advertising a clearly unhealthy food, but I thought this was a pretty big deal.

If anyone has had such a Twinkie, please provide a review in the comments section. I have one specific question- is the cream yellow or white?

Here is a link to the story from the Week in Review section of today's New York Times.

Also, as a side note, the Sunday Times is a remarkable literary achievement. The fact that they crank out such a massive paper on a weekly basis is extremely impressive. I spent half my morning reading it, and it was very satisfying.

Thomas Jefferson Feels Like Going for a Swim

Over Christmas vacation, I went to Washington D.C. with my family. The one major site we did not go to was the Jefferson Memorial.

This was apparently a big mistake since the Jefferson Memorial is currently sinking.

From today's Washington Post comes a story about the Memorial's deteriorating, sinking infrastructure. The article is incredibly technical and I don't understand half of it. Apparently, for now, the main structure of the Memorial is not at risk.

But with global warming, who knows how long it will be until the Memorial is completely submerged under water?

I say see it while you can.

(To view the article, you unfortunately have to create a Washington Post user name)

Saturday, June 16, 2007

The Top Five Cereals of All Time

When Miller and I started this blog, we had planned on doing a litany of lists. We were going to list our top movies, top musicians, top fruits, top dinner utensils, and of course our top desserts. We thought it'd start some nice conversation in the comments section, and give us a chance to share our often eccentric taste.

For some reason, two weeks since this blog's birth, we have yet to pursue this vision.

Well here's a start.

With Miller still out of town, I will hold off on listing my favorite desserts. Instead, given Kellogg's recent decision to stop marketing certain "unhealthy" products, I thought it'd be appropriate to list my top five all time cereals.

Here are some things, in addition to taste, that I considered while making the list:
-crunch factor
-presentation
-destruction time (how long it takes for milk to render the cereal inedible)
-Toys given away in the box

Nutritional value was not taken into account.

Here are the top five cereals of all time:

5. Corn-Pops
The one problem with this cereal is that you sometimes get a bad pop. However, the good ones more than make up for the few bad.

4. Fruit Loops
Maybe it's just because Kellogg actually advertised this to me when I was little, but I have always loved Fruit Loops. I think its the first cereal I ever had in milk. The color combos are a big plus as well.

3. Cinnamon Toast Crunch
Screw the milk. This cereal is tremendous when it is dry.

2. Razzle Dazzle Rice Krispie Treats

This is a real throwback. For a limited time only, this incredibly cereal was the highlight of my day. It consisted of a rainbow array of rice krispie like pieces. It is a real shame that this cereal is no longer made, yet regular Rice Kripie cereal still is.

1. Berry Berry Kix

The perfect cereal. It's good with or without milk, with or without a spoon, during breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It has it all: presentation, crunch, and a remarkable, fruity taste. When cereal was first thought up by some chef in Ancient times, Berry Berry Kix is definetely what he had in mind.

Honorable mention: Honey Combs, Honey Nut Cheerios (the fact that it lowers cholesterol was not factored into this ranking), Post Raisin Bran

Most overrated cereal of all time: Lucky Charms

Also, as a side note, cereal should never contain chocolate.