Four score and five days ago, a blog was made. The Vegan Dessert provided a platform from which two college students could make witty remarks, write thinly veiled sarcasm, and pontificate on the world. "We have ideas, too. And everyone ought to hear them."
I stand by the founding principle of the Vegan Dessert: "Conceived in variety, and dedicated to the proposition that all ideas are created equal." Of course, the ideas of a certain JT and Miller might be more equal than others.
As the publication's readership could tell, certain traits distinguished JT's posts from my own. And after reading JT's analysis of blogging, I realized that each of us had a different vision of the Vegan Dessert.
Not to offend the reader, but to me, the reader didn't especially matter. Blogging was an intellectual exercise. Pick an interesting topic, even one you know little to nothing about. Read about it. Form an opinion. Construct an argument. Draw a pithy conclusion.
At the risk of sounding like babbling old Polonius, I advise writing for yourself. Mull over a curious topic and produce a cohesive article. People don't care how long it is, as long as they too are engaged. Even with short posts, concise paragraphs, and simple sentences, I can barely digest one post on Deadspin, because I don't care about sports gossip. Lack of focus was the Vegan Dessert's greatest asset. It ensured that friends and relatives could find at least one interesting post to peruse.
As JT mentioned, most people who encountered our blog were anonymous Googlers who never returned. This fact doesn't bother me, since they were after a specific topic. If I provided a compelling list of Disneyland attractions, that's an added bonus to the personal amusement I reaped from writing it. Think of it as Maimonides's highest form of giving -- charity with unknown individuals at both ends of the equation.
Whoever you are, thanks for reading.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Top Five Wind Pieces
In three centuries' repertoire of classical music -- to ignore that vast array of boring late Renaissance and early Baroque output -- there exists one genre for which I have developed a particular affinity. For our purposes, I'll call that genre wind music, and in its ranks I don't include "band" music, or that relatively modern corpus spanning from Sousa to the present. Wind music consists of pieces for chamber ensembles usually constituted of woodwinds and French horn. Works for mixed ensemble (e.g. a small group of winds and strings) also fall into the category. The size of the ensemble usually varies between three and eight players, although certain masterworks are written for larger groups, such as nonet or 13 musicians. It is difficult to give the genre quantitative parameters because the nature of wind music is defined more by a particular sound (which I will address shortly) than by instrumental configuration and size.
The heyday of wind music came sometime between Mozart and Beethoven, but its buildup predated 1756, and its denouement lingered into the late 19th century. Gems of the wind music repertoire have since been composed independently of a popular trend toward the musical medium.
Hapsburg nobles loved music for winds, and they sponsored both commissions and court wind ensembles. Mozart wrote a great body of music for wind instruments, including concerti (for oboe, French horn, clarinet, flute, and bassoon), serenades, basset horn trios (the basset horn is a primitive lower pitched member of the clarinet family), and wind quintets (defined as flute, oboe, clarinet, French horn, and bassoon).
Audiences embraced the compositional mode. Beethoven's Septet for Winds and Strings was so popular that he felt it obscured the significance of his later works. When the Septet took London by storm in 1815, he exclaimed, "That damn work; I wish it could be burned!" Almost 50 years later, Walt Whitman heard the piece and waxed metaphoric in delight. "Dainty abandon, sometimes as if Nature laughing on a hillside in the sunshine; serious and firm monotonies, as of winds; a horn sounding through the tangle of the forest, and the dying echoes; soothing floating of waves, but presently rising in surges, angrily lashing, muttering, heavy; piercing peals of laughter, for interstices; now and then weird, as Nature herself is in certain moods -- but mainly spontaneous, easy, careless…."
Most wind music is lighter than string music -- especially most pieces written for string quartet. Wind instruments are mellifluous and create exquisite overtones in harmony, whereas, at least to my ears, string quartets often emphasize unpleasant and melodramatic sawing and scratching. A wind ensemble's breathy weight can be exploited to create an amazing propulsive effect. Look to the third movement of Mozart's Gran Partita for a soothing but unstoppable impetus at a slow tempo; Hummel's Wind Octet and Partita and Mendelssohn's Military Overture (composed at age 15) both highlight the ability of a wind group to jump on dotted rhythms with powerful momentum.
The five central instruments of wind music (flute, oboe, clarinet, horn, and bassoon) possess strikingly different sounds. In contrast, the four primary stringed instruments (violin, viola, cello, and double bass) exhibit matched timbres when playing notes in the same register; they primarily distinguish themselves by playing in different registers. While stringed instruments interact in consort like members of an immediate family, wind instruments resemble the disparate characters of a bustling metropolis.
So here is a list of my favorite wind music:
Close call: Serenade for winds and strings, op. 44 (1878), for two oboes, two clarinets, two horns, two bassoons, cello, and double bass, by Antonin Dvorak.
Starting with a memorable opening march that would sound equally convincing on pipe organ, Dvorak infuses each of the serenade's four movements with folksy Slavonic tunes. Brahms loved the piece, and it surely helped the Czech composer gain a foothold in the international music scene.
5. Grand Nonet, op. 31 (1813), for flute, oboe, clarinet, horn, bassoon, violin, viola, cello, and double bass, by Louis Spohr.
A traditionalist composer who introduced radical innovations to classical music (such as use of the baton for conducting), Spohr constructed his Nonet in a familiar fashion. The opening movement is in sonata form; a scherzo and then an adagio follow (this common inversion of the two movements is common in Romantic music); a bubbling vivace finale wraps it up. Spohr's simple chromatic theme of the first movement resurfaces in three of the other four, providing a splendid sense of continuity.
The winds and strings are often treated as two sections of the ensemble, and in certain parts, the melody is monopolized by violin. But the most important facet of Spohr's writing is a soloistic recycling of thematic material between instruments, a feature shared by many great compositions with important wind parts.
Andrew de Alvare discusses how the piece was enjoyed by aristocrats in the Age of Napoleon. "The demanding and sometimes virtuosic parts required professional musicians available only to the wealthy, but also made the piece[s] [Spohr's Wind Octet and Nonet] attractive to a wider audience. While certain amateur ensembles did perform these pieces, they were not as popular as the related works by Beethoven [the Septet] and Schubert [the Octet]. The sophistication of these two works by Spohr, their consequent aristocratic appeal, and most of all, their popularity, are indicated by their performance in 1814 for European heads of state at the Congress of Vienna." Spohr's Nonet, permeated with subdued sensibility and subtle sarcasm, fits perfectly my conception of restoration Europe’s ranking elite.
4. Octet, D. 803 (1824), for clarinet, horn, bassoon, two violins, viola, cello, and double bass, by Franz Schubert.
Often deemed classical music's greatest melodist alongside Mozart, most critics ignore the genius of Schubert's rhythmic intensity. The combination of rhythmic drive and melodic passion makes Schubert's Ninth one of the most perfect symphonies ever composed. Look at his “Wanderer” Fantasy, "Death and the Maiden" Quartet, or "Trout" Quintet. Why are they all staples of the repertoire? Persistent, unrelenting rhythm, plus a spiffy tune. Let me describe a movement from his Octet, written as I listen to a recording by the Gaudier Ensemble.
A sudden tremolo chill in the bass punctuated by pungent wind chords launches the finale of this archetypical octet. The ensuing Allegro plods forth like a pastoral peasant, persistently shrugging off memories of the minor key opening. Schubert, with typical melodic flair, keeps your foot tapping until the unexpected reemergence of the tortuous opening tremolo. The peasant journeyman doesn't ignore the warning this second time and instead picks up his tempo, sprinting home to the buoyant syncopations of arpeggiating horns.
Composed for some of the same players Beethoven had in mind for his Septet, Schubert's Octet takes after that groundbreaking work for small mixed ensemble in certain other aspects. Both reach back to the proud 18th century divertimento tradition; both use identical instruments, except for Schubert's addition of an extra violin; both are emotionally unburdened; and both were written so as not to exceed the capabilities of small groups of musically inclined friends.
3. Quintet for Piano and Winds, K. 452 (1784), for piano, oboe, clarinet, horn, and bassoon, by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
"I consider it to be the best work I have ever composed," wrote Wolfgang to his father after the quintet's premiere in April of 1784. Mozart's pleasure was well-founded, since his composition remains enjoyable to hear and play. After assembling a group to read through the piece at the end of last academic year, I concluded that the Beethoven quintet for the same instruments sounds more difficult, but the Mozart quintet is much harder to play. Motifs subtly alter their shading as they pass between the wind instruments, with perpetual support provided by piano.
The first movement opens at a tempo marked largo. A serene piano melody accented by heavy wind chords fluidly dissolves into dissonance and back to calm, before ending on a regal chord and launching into the main allegro section. Piano once again provides melodic fodder, but this time, Mozart’s winds enter to elaborate the keyboard’s simplistic theme with stately flourishes. Alternation between innocence and pomp characterizes the whole movement; the horn finally calls it quits with an exclamation of pointed triplets.
The quintet continues with a chillingly beautiful Larghetto. A tricky melody on oboe is supported by the lower winds, but the movement's exposition soon cedes to soloistic exchanges between all the instruments. After gradually reincorporating the oboe’s original statement into a building chorus, the ensemble prematurely diminishes to a soft cadence. An abrupt minor key inclusion gives a brief reality check. But the oboe's relaxing dream refuses to dissipate, and the movement ends with a gentle sigh.
Mozart’s closing Allegretto begins with a lighthearted tune in the piano, soon redoubled by the appearance of winds. Countermelody enters as a flippant phrase that provides a launching pad for numerous variations. My favorite moment comes near the end, when the music grinds to a halt. A fugue gains force in the winds and spills into the nervous trill of an oboe before releasing its energy into a delightful march-like finish.
2. Sextet for Piano and Wind Quintet, op. 100 (1932-1939), by Francis Poulenc.
Poulenc was an insidious composer, a bourgeois nobleman who never composed for money but who frequently mocked cosmopolitan France through inane and sarcastic works. Surprisingly, he was also a devout Catholic capable of producing deeply moving music. Throughout his oeuvre, these opposing traits surface in close proximity. Often they are juxtaposed in one brief movement, like the first movement of his Sonata for Clarinet and Piano.
Individually, Poulenc’s Sextet is only moderately challenging. But a successful combination of the lines in ensemble is a tremendous harmonic and rhythmic challenge. Poulenc was a first-rate composer for winds, because his phrase lengths perfectly accommodate the instruments’ dependence on breathing. Poulenc’s colorful style accents the character of each instrument, and his bizarre harmonies produce exotic overtones.
The Sextet’s first movement commences with a raucous crescendo of speedy runs (in parallel tenths, if I remember correctly). From this cacophony, a lunatic melody bursts forth at backbreaking pace. One slow respite is generously provided in the chaotic development. Poulenc’s middle movement is titled “Divertissement,” reflecting its naïve and playful nature. Bittersweet shades are occasionally introduced, and the movement ends with staccato grunts low in the bassoon, but it is mostly frivolous, especially in a startling and jaunty interlude. The last movement is a rondo. At first, Poulenc contrasts one vivacious with another lush melody, but he ultimately abandons the witty exchange for a plangent C major conclusion.
1. Serenade no. 10, "Gran Partita." K. 361/371a (1783 or 1784), for two oboes, two clarinets, two basset horns, four French horns, two bassoons, and double bass, by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
In the movie “Amadeus,” Salieri first encounters the child prodigy of Salzburg at a performance of his "Gran Partita" serenade in the court of Joseph II. That "great music for winds of a very special kind," to quote a Viennese newspaper describing the piece in 1784, was an important work in Mozart's life, being the first he wrote upon moving to the Hapsburg capital.
Let's leave a brief description of the third movement largo to F. Murray Abraham's Salieri. "On the page it looked nothing. The beginning simple, almost comic. Just a pulse -- bassoons and basset horns -- like a rusty squeezebox. And then suddenly -- high above it -- an oboe. A single note, hanging there unwavering, until a clarinet took over and sweetened it into a phrase of such delight. This was no composition by a performing monkey... This was a music I'd never heard. Filled with such longing, such unfulfillable longing. It seemed to me that I was hearing a voice of God."
Mozart perfected the use of wind instruments as actors in a cast. Musicologist Alfred Einstein writes an excellent summary of the instruments’ roles in the "Gran Partita" and expounds on two of the movements. "The fascination of the work emanates from its sheer sound. There is a continuous alternation between tutti and soli, in which the part of the soli is usually allotted to the two clarinets; a constant reveling in new combinations: a quartet of clarinets and basset horns, a sextet of oboes, basset horns, and bassoons over the supporting double bass; oboe, basset horn, and bassoon in unison, with accompaniment -- a mixture of timbres and transparent clarity at the same time; an 'over-lapping' of all the tone-colors, especially in the development section of the first movement. No instrument is treated in true concertante fashion, but each one can, and strives to, distinguish itself; and just as in a buffo finale by Mozart each person is true to his own character, so each instrument here is true to its own character -- the oboe to its aptness for cantabile melodies, the bassoon likewise and also, in chattering triplets, to its comic properties. The two pairs of horns furnish the basic tone-color; but the fact that Mozart uses only the first pair in the first slow movement, a Notturno, is an indication of his supreme taste and skill: this is a scene from Romeo under starry skies, a scene in which longing, grief, and love are wrung like a distillation from the beating hearts of the lovers. The counterpart to this lyricism is found in a 'Romance' whose sentimentality is carried towards the point of absurdity by means of an oddly burlesque Allegretto, an 'alternativo.'" And nothing sends chills down my spine like the penultimate movement's final variation and segue into the conclusive roaring Rondo.
Reading through the Library of Congress facsimile along with my favorite recording (members of the Berlin Philharmonic under Zubin Mehta), I noticed that the "Gran Partita" still presents challenges to the modern clarinetist, alongside untold delights.
The heyday of wind music came sometime between Mozart and Beethoven, but its buildup predated 1756, and its denouement lingered into the late 19th century. Gems of the wind music repertoire have since been composed independently of a popular trend toward the musical medium.
Hapsburg nobles loved music for winds, and they sponsored both commissions and court wind ensembles. Mozart wrote a great body of music for wind instruments, including concerti (for oboe, French horn, clarinet, flute, and bassoon), serenades, basset horn trios (the basset horn is a primitive lower pitched member of the clarinet family), and wind quintets (defined as flute, oboe, clarinet, French horn, and bassoon).
Audiences embraced the compositional mode. Beethoven's Septet for Winds and Strings was so popular that he felt it obscured the significance of his later works. When the Septet took London by storm in 1815, he exclaimed, "That damn work; I wish it could be burned!" Almost 50 years later, Walt Whitman heard the piece and waxed metaphoric in delight. "Dainty abandon, sometimes as if Nature laughing on a hillside in the sunshine; serious and firm monotonies, as of winds; a horn sounding through the tangle of the forest, and the dying echoes; soothing floating of waves, but presently rising in surges, angrily lashing, muttering, heavy; piercing peals of laughter, for interstices; now and then weird, as Nature herself is in certain moods -- but mainly spontaneous, easy, careless…."
Most wind music is lighter than string music -- especially most pieces written for string quartet. Wind instruments are mellifluous and create exquisite overtones in harmony, whereas, at least to my ears, string quartets often emphasize unpleasant and melodramatic sawing and scratching. A wind ensemble's breathy weight can be exploited to create an amazing propulsive effect. Look to the third movement of Mozart's Gran Partita for a soothing but unstoppable impetus at a slow tempo; Hummel's Wind Octet and Partita and Mendelssohn's Military Overture (composed at age 15) both highlight the ability of a wind group to jump on dotted rhythms with powerful momentum.
The five central instruments of wind music (flute, oboe, clarinet, horn, and bassoon) possess strikingly different sounds. In contrast, the four primary stringed instruments (violin, viola, cello, and double bass) exhibit matched timbres when playing notes in the same register; they primarily distinguish themselves by playing in different registers. While stringed instruments interact in consort like members of an immediate family, wind instruments resemble the disparate characters of a bustling metropolis.
So here is a list of my favorite wind music:
Close call: Serenade for winds and strings, op. 44 (1878), for two oboes, two clarinets, two horns, two bassoons, cello, and double bass, by Antonin Dvorak.
Starting with a memorable opening march that would sound equally convincing on pipe organ, Dvorak infuses each of the serenade's four movements with folksy Slavonic tunes. Brahms loved the piece, and it surely helped the Czech composer gain a foothold in the international music scene.
5. Grand Nonet, op. 31 (1813), for flute, oboe, clarinet, horn, bassoon, violin, viola, cello, and double bass, by Louis Spohr.
A traditionalist composer who introduced radical innovations to classical music (such as use of the baton for conducting), Spohr constructed his Nonet in a familiar fashion. The opening movement is in sonata form; a scherzo and then an adagio follow (this common inversion of the two movements is common in Romantic music); a bubbling vivace finale wraps it up. Spohr's simple chromatic theme of the first movement resurfaces in three of the other four, providing a splendid sense of continuity.
The winds and strings are often treated as two sections of the ensemble, and in certain parts, the melody is monopolized by violin. But the most important facet of Spohr's writing is a soloistic recycling of thematic material between instruments, a feature shared by many great compositions with important wind parts.
Andrew de Alvare discusses how the piece was enjoyed by aristocrats in the Age of Napoleon. "The demanding and sometimes virtuosic parts required professional musicians available only to the wealthy, but also made the piece[s] [Spohr's Wind Octet and Nonet] attractive to a wider audience. While certain amateur ensembles did perform these pieces, they were not as popular as the related works by Beethoven [the Septet] and Schubert [the Octet]. The sophistication of these two works by Spohr, their consequent aristocratic appeal, and most of all, their popularity, are indicated by their performance in 1814 for European heads of state at the Congress of Vienna." Spohr's Nonet, permeated with subdued sensibility and subtle sarcasm, fits perfectly my conception of restoration Europe’s ranking elite.
4. Octet, D. 803 (1824), for clarinet, horn, bassoon, two violins, viola, cello, and double bass, by Franz Schubert.
Often deemed classical music's greatest melodist alongside Mozart, most critics ignore the genius of Schubert's rhythmic intensity. The combination of rhythmic drive and melodic passion makes Schubert's Ninth one of the most perfect symphonies ever composed. Look at his “Wanderer” Fantasy, "Death and the Maiden" Quartet, or "Trout" Quintet. Why are they all staples of the repertoire? Persistent, unrelenting rhythm, plus a spiffy tune. Let me describe a movement from his Octet, written as I listen to a recording by the Gaudier Ensemble.
A sudden tremolo chill in the bass punctuated by pungent wind chords launches the finale of this archetypical octet. The ensuing Allegro plods forth like a pastoral peasant, persistently shrugging off memories of the minor key opening. Schubert, with typical melodic flair, keeps your foot tapping until the unexpected reemergence of the tortuous opening tremolo. The peasant journeyman doesn't ignore the warning this second time and instead picks up his tempo, sprinting home to the buoyant syncopations of arpeggiating horns.
Composed for some of the same players Beethoven had in mind for his Septet, Schubert's Octet takes after that groundbreaking work for small mixed ensemble in certain other aspects. Both reach back to the proud 18th century divertimento tradition; both use identical instruments, except for Schubert's addition of an extra violin; both are emotionally unburdened; and both were written so as not to exceed the capabilities of small groups of musically inclined friends.
3. Quintet for Piano and Winds, K. 452 (1784), for piano, oboe, clarinet, horn, and bassoon, by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
"I consider it to be the best work I have ever composed," wrote Wolfgang to his father after the quintet's premiere in April of 1784. Mozart's pleasure was well-founded, since his composition remains enjoyable to hear and play. After assembling a group to read through the piece at the end of last academic year, I concluded that the Beethoven quintet for the same instruments sounds more difficult, but the Mozart quintet is much harder to play. Motifs subtly alter their shading as they pass between the wind instruments, with perpetual support provided by piano.
The first movement opens at a tempo marked largo. A serene piano melody accented by heavy wind chords fluidly dissolves into dissonance and back to calm, before ending on a regal chord and launching into the main allegro section. Piano once again provides melodic fodder, but this time, Mozart’s winds enter to elaborate the keyboard’s simplistic theme with stately flourishes. Alternation between innocence and pomp characterizes the whole movement; the horn finally calls it quits with an exclamation of pointed triplets.
The quintet continues with a chillingly beautiful Larghetto. A tricky melody on oboe is supported by the lower winds, but the movement's exposition soon cedes to soloistic exchanges between all the instruments. After gradually reincorporating the oboe’s original statement into a building chorus, the ensemble prematurely diminishes to a soft cadence. An abrupt minor key inclusion gives a brief reality check. But the oboe's relaxing dream refuses to dissipate, and the movement ends with a gentle sigh.
Mozart’s closing Allegretto begins with a lighthearted tune in the piano, soon redoubled by the appearance of winds. Countermelody enters as a flippant phrase that provides a launching pad for numerous variations. My favorite moment comes near the end, when the music grinds to a halt. A fugue gains force in the winds and spills into the nervous trill of an oboe before releasing its energy into a delightful march-like finish.
2. Sextet for Piano and Wind Quintet, op. 100 (1932-1939), by Francis Poulenc.
Poulenc was an insidious composer, a bourgeois nobleman who never composed for money but who frequently mocked cosmopolitan France through inane and sarcastic works. Surprisingly, he was also a devout Catholic capable of producing deeply moving music. Throughout his oeuvre, these opposing traits surface in close proximity. Often they are juxtaposed in one brief movement, like the first movement of his Sonata for Clarinet and Piano.
Individually, Poulenc’s Sextet is only moderately challenging. But a successful combination of the lines in ensemble is a tremendous harmonic and rhythmic challenge. Poulenc was a first-rate composer for winds, because his phrase lengths perfectly accommodate the instruments’ dependence on breathing. Poulenc’s colorful style accents the character of each instrument, and his bizarre harmonies produce exotic overtones.
The Sextet’s first movement commences with a raucous crescendo of speedy runs (in parallel tenths, if I remember correctly). From this cacophony, a lunatic melody bursts forth at backbreaking pace. One slow respite is generously provided in the chaotic development. Poulenc’s middle movement is titled “Divertissement,” reflecting its naïve and playful nature. Bittersweet shades are occasionally introduced, and the movement ends with staccato grunts low in the bassoon, but it is mostly frivolous, especially in a startling and jaunty interlude. The last movement is a rondo. At first, Poulenc contrasts one vivacious with another lush melody, but he ultimately abandons the witty exchange for a plangent C major conclusion.
1. Serenade no. 10, "Gran Partita." K. 361/371a (1783 or 1784), for two oboes, two clarinets, two basset horns, four French horns, two bassoons, and double bass, by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
In the movie “Amadeus,” Salieri first encounters the child prodigy of Salzburg at a performance of his "Gran Partita" serenade in the court of Joseph II. That "great music for winds of a very special kind," to quote a Viennese newspaper describing the piece in 1784, was an important work in Mozart's life, being the first he wrote upon moving to the Hapsburg capital.
Let's leave a brief description of the third movement largo to F. Murray Abraham's Salieri. "On the page it looked nothing. The beginning simple, almost comic. Just a pulse -- bassoons and basset horns -- like a rusty squeezebox. And then suddenly -- high above it -- an oboe. A single note, hanging there unwavering, until a clarinet took over and sweetened it into a phrase of such delight. This was no composition by a performing monkey... This was a music I'd never heard. Filled with such longing, such unfulfillable longing. It seemed to me that I was hearing a voice of God."
Mozart perfected the use of wind instruments as actors in a cast. Musicologist Alfred Einstein writes an excellent summary of the instruments’ roles in the "Gran Partita" and expounds on two of the movements. "The fascination of the work emanates from its sheer sound. There is a continuous alternation between tutti and soli, in which the part of the soli is usually allotted to the two clarinets; a constant reveling in new combinations: a quartet of clarinets and basset horns, a sextet of oboes, basset horns, and bassoons over the supporting double bass; oboe, basset horn, and bassoon in unison, with accompaniment -- a mixture of timbres and transparent clarity at the same time; an 'over-lapping' of all the tone-colors, especially in the development section of the first movement. No instrument is treated in true concertante fashion, but each one can, and strives to, distinguish itself; and just as in a buffo finale by Mozart each person is true to his own character, so each instrument here is true to its own character -- the oboe to its aptness for cantabile melodies, the bassoon likewise and also, in chattering triplets, to its comic properties. The two pairs of horns furnish the basic tone-color; but the fact that Mozart uses only the first pair in the first slow movement, a Notturno, is an indication of his supreme taste and skill: this is a scene from Romeo under starry skies, a scene in which longing, grief, and love are wrung like a distillation from the beating hearts of the lovers. The counterpart to this lyricism is found in a 'Romance' whose sentimentality is carried towards the point of absurdity by means of an oddly burlesque Allegretto, an 'alternativo.'" And nothing sends chills down my spine like the penultimate movement's final variation and segue into the conclusive roaring Rondo.
Reading through the Library of Congress facsimile along with my favorite recording (members of the Berlin Philharmonic under Zubin Mehta), I noticed that the "Gran Partita" still presents challenges to the modern clarinetist, alongside untold delights.
Nothing Gold Can Stay
In life, it's best to go all in or not go at all.With the summer coming to an end, and classes scarily approaching, I realize that this blog cannot go on. I don't have the time, energy, or motivation to keep serving the VD, and I doubt Miller does either.
It's been fun cooking up posts for you the last twelve-odd weeks. I recommend a blog to anyone with nothing to do.
With my last post, I want to go through some things I've learned this summer about the blogosphere. Think of it as my honors thesis. I've been doing research for the summer, and here are the results:
Keep it short: Long articles are for print. The Internet is all about speed, and blog posts should be simple and to the point. Ideally, a blog should have a continued button, so that you can have the first few paragraphs on the main page, and the remainder somewhere else. I couldn't ever figure out how to do this on blogger.
Break it Down: If you're post is going to be long, as I suspect this will be, break it down into short sections. That way, readers can easily pick and choose what they want to read.
Bored? Start a Blog:
Since I used a ton of excel this summer for my job, I decided to bust out some graphs. The graphs show that as my research got more interesting, the blog got appreciably worse. It was almost exactly inversely proportional. In the beginning of the summer, when I didn't have much to do at work, I would think about the blog all day. That way, when I got back to my dorm at night, I could storm through 2-3 posts a night. By the end of the summer though, my job got interesting, and the VD suffered. The big spike in the graph to the right is July 3-5, the greatest stretch this blog ever had.
Blogger--easy, but limiting: I don't know html, java, or any computer languages, but I was able to make a website for free. That's pretty cool, and it's thanks to sites like blogger. It was sometimes very difficult to format posts (like the graphs above), but for simple layout, blogger is surprisingly smooth.
Weekly Features are the way to go: Hopefully you didn't realize, but some weeks I'd have 2-3 "Vegan Dessert Questions of the Week" and some weeks I'd have none. Same is true with the "Random YouTube Video of the Day." By having this quasi regular features, it gives you a good cop-out when you can't find anything to write about.
Deadspin.com is Amazing: Many of my readers might not have heard of deadspin.com, but it is the premier sports blog on the Internet. Having had a blog for the summer, I can now fully appreciate the greatness of Will Leitch, the editor of the site. He is officially the king of sarcasm.
Don't get too Personal: My worst posts came when I was upset and felt like ranting. I had no one to complain to, so I complained to myself, via the Vegan Dessert. These posts should never have actually been published.
Think before you write: Because it's so simple to write a post, I'd often put something up that I didn't completely believe in. I'd try to get a post up too quickly, and realize hours after it was published that it didn't make sense or I didn't really believe what I had said. Unlike writers for print, bloggers don't unnecessarily have time to think about their posts between writing and publishing. The two can be simultaneous. This can lead to some poorly thought out posts.
Google Images is the Best, True That, Double True: By taking images from Google, our readership at least tripled. Not too many people search "Vegan Dessert" on search engines, but lots look for images of David Beckham, Kobayashi, or Jessica Biel. By having such photos on our site, we got a lot of inadvertent traffic. I like to believe that some of these accidental visitors actually stayed on the site and read some posts. The photo below got us the most traffic. There were a couple days when we got close to 1000 hits thanks to the David Beckham photo.
Wait a second. Never mind. I just went to look for the David Beckham photo on our site, and it's not even there any more. It looks like a lot of the photos that we borrowed are now no longer up. Maybe Google images isn't the way to go after all.
Vegan Dessert? You may have noticed that this blog has absolutely nothing to do with Vegan Dessert, and I just use it for metaphors every once in a while. The main flaw with this blog was that it had no focus. At times it focused on sports, other times politics, other times music. Because of this, there was no way we'd generate a large, loyal audience. No one knew what to expect when coming to the VD. This made it more fun to write, but made readers more skeptical to keep on visiting.
**There will be one more post in mid-September, when Kanye's new CD comes out.**
I hope you've enjoyed the VD. It's been fun.
I'll leave you with the official song/music video of the Vegan Dessert:
Monday, August 27, 2007
Video Games Turn to Steroids
Growing up, I had three birthday venues--the nearby aquarium, the bowling alley and the local arcade. I don't recall anyone ever getting injured at one of my parties. There were no shark attacks, no lethal bowling ball drops, and thank goodness, no broken arms from arm wrestling a machine.Three people in Japan, whom I don't think I invited to any parties, unfortunately experienced the latter. Now, 150 "Arm Spirit" machines are being recalled from Japanese arcades.
An AP article is on top of the story. "The machine isn't that strong, much less so than a muscular man. Even women should be able to beat it," said Ayano Sakiyama, a spokeswoman for the comany which makes the machine, "We think that maybe some players get overexcited and twist their arms in an unnatural way."
It's pretty clear that Sakiyama, a la Bud Selig, is casting a blind eye to the biggest scandal in video game history--steroids have gone digital.
I want to see a showdown between the juiced up arcade machine and Sylvester Stallone's character in the movie "Over the Top." I take Stallone. Human steroids have to be further along than those for video games.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
The Hits of Summer
The biggest musical event of the summer has yet to take place. September 11, 2007 Kanye West and 50 Cent are coming out with CDs on the same freaking day. Sick.But this is the wrap-up week for this blog, and I have to say a little bit about the summer in music.
Since I lived in a college dorm for ten weeks of the summer, and very rarely drove anywhere, the summer hits some how never got old. Unlike past years, where I came to dread the hits of summer, this year I would scan the radio while driving, simply looking for the 5-10 songs that defined the season.
Out of all songs, I'd be happiest to come across "Umbrella" by Rihanna on the radio. I have no idea what the hell the umbrella symbolizes (if anyone does, please comment), but the song is great. I can easily sing (technically scream) along with it, and you can't go wrong with Jay-Z.
In a close second comes "The Way I Are" by Timbaland. What a beat. I couldn't stop playing the opening beat on my trumpet after hearing the song for the first time. The song as a whole falls apart a bit in the middle with the rapping, and that's why it's not my favorite hit of the summer, but overall, I was just a bit excited when this song came along on the radio.
The whole summer, I wasn't sure how to feel about "Big Girls Don't Cry" by Fergie. Can a guy like this song? Am I allowed to blast it on my radio? This awkwardness ruined the song for me.
As for the best album I listened to this summer, it's without a doubt "Best of George Benson the Instrumentals." I ripped the guy apart in an earlier post, but this is one of the best albums I've ever heard. Benson does not sing at all, yet I constantly found myself singing to his guitar. This CD was perfect for listening to during a long day in the lab. I highly recommend it for homework listening.
Of course, I have to mention my trip to the Saratoga Performing Arts Center, and my fulfillment of a life long dream--seeing Tower of Power! in concert. They were somehow better than I expected. If you get a chance, see them live. Read this too (it's one of my better posts of the summer).
Some quick hits:
Summertime by Will Smith. Recommended by brother. You must listen to it before the summer is over.
Encore, Jay-Z and Linkin Park Remix. Currently my favorite song.
Common=good. Listen to him.
The Official Song of the VD=Basketball, but Kurtis Blow. See YouTube video at bottom of post. Make sure to not only listen to the song but also watch the music video.
I'm sorry that this was a bit of a ramble, but now that I'm back at Amherst, my mind is awash. I promise my final few posts will be more direct and fluent. I've been mapping them out in my head for weeks.
(Note: The photo shows Kanye, Diddy, and 50 performing together two days ago. They, along with Jay-Z, made a surprise appearance at MSG's "Scremfest." Read about it in the NYT.)
Friday, August 24, 2007
Random YouTube Video of the Day
What would you do if your parents left you home alone for ten days? Probably not build a water slide down the side of your house. But that's what some kids decided to do in this video.
Many of the VD's readers will be heading off to college in the coming days. College is essentialy 150(?) days away from your parents, so let this video be an inspiration to all:
Thanks to awfulannouncing for the video.
Many of the VD's readers will be heading off to college in the coming days. College is essentialy 150(?) days away from your parents, so let this video be an inspiration to all:
Thanks to awfulannouncing for the video.
The Summer of Good Movies
I've already written my personal reviews of the summer in food and magazines.Now it's time for movies.
Incredibly, this summer, I batted .750 when it comes to watching a good movie.
If you take one thing from this review let it be this--don't let someone else pick out the movie you're going to watch, unless it's your older brother by 18 months.
This school year, I watched so many terrible movies because I passively agreed to watch what someone else picked out, and said was going to be great. Snatch, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, All The King's Men. They all sucked.
This summer, the only two bad movies I watched were picked out by others. They were Fast Food Nation and Little Miss Sunshine.
Little Miss Sunshine was recommended by half the civilized world. "Oh you have to see it," the girls in my dorm said. "It's such a great movie," my mom told me. I watched the movie waiting for greatness. There was no way, I thought, that so many people would recommend it, and it'd end up being a dud. The greatness never came. It wasn't a terrible movie, but considering the expectations, it was a monumental letdown. It was like the Roberto Alomar trade to the Me
ts, or going to Valentine Dinning Hall expecting corn muffins and getting Bunker Hill Biscuits instead. Downright depressing. Go ahead and write in the comments about how wrong I am about this one. I won't listen to you, but it's always nice to have comments on my posts.Not much needs to be said about Fast Food Nation. Read my review. It was one of the worst movies I've ever seen. And of course, it was picked out by someone else, who I will not name but sometimes reads the VD. It was like Shepard's Pie at Valentine, or Mo Vaughn in a Mets uniform--simply terrible.
The one movie I watched this summer following a recommendation and actually liked was Harold and Kumar go to White Castle. I might have said otherwise in earlier posts, but this was my favorite movie of the summer. It was like the Golden State Warriors of 2007. I didn't expect much, but now I can't wait for the sequel. This movie was recommended by my older brother, thus supporting my earlier hypothesis.
Now, for the movies I picked out and loved. For these movies, I was the general manager. Like Omar, I knew how to build my lineup (of movies).
Spellbound. Read my review. It has so many incredible, hilarious story lines. I thought it'd be good, but not as great as it turned out to be.
Hoop Dreams. Read my review. Read Miller's review. The best documentary I've ever watched.
Ratatouille. Read my review. Read Miller's review. I've realized since watching it that I am like the common rat. I do not have any respect for fine cuisine.
Wild Hogs. I just watched this a couple days ago with my mom. I thought it would be kind of lame, with a cast of Tim Allen, John Travolta, Martin Lawrence, and William H. Macy. However, it was really enjoyable. It was the corny, feel good movie of the summer.
Superbad. Read my review. Not as funny as White Castle, but pretty freaking funny.
I suppose the act of writing a movie review goes against rule number one of this post--don't take movie recommendations from anyone other than you're older brother. Why write a review if no one should listen?
However, obviously, since I came up the theory, it doesn't apply to me. My recommendations are universal.
If you want to list your favorite movies of the summer, go ahead. But unless your my older brother by 18 months, I'm not going to take any movie advice from you.
Next up--my summer music review.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Vegan Dessert Question of the Week!
The Little League Series has reminded me of a question I've had for a very long time, and never had properly answered.In the Tournament, there is a team from Latin America, the Carribean, and Mexico.
Oddly, this reminded me of a question that has bothered for me years--what continent does Central America belong to?
I used to think that I was an idiot for not knowing this. I was embarrassed to ask my teachers. Yet, I clearly remember once asking a Spanish teacher, and she too had no idea.
I just took a look at my Risk game board, and that did very little to clear anything up. In Risk, Central America is a large swath which stretches all the way from Mexico to Panama.
Now, I know that Mexico is considered part of North America, but below that things get very confusing. Is the Carribean part of Central America? Is Central America part of South America, or is it simply a region without a Continent?
I've always assumed that a country has to be part of a Continent, but this assumption may be wrong.
Many at Amherst have supported the Latin American Studies major. Before I can consider supporting this effort, it'd be nice to know what Latin America encompasses.
So I guess this has morphed into a two part question:
What continent is Central America a part of, and what countries make up Latin America?
I Hate ESPN
Before you read this, make sure to read the previous post. Otherwise it will not make sense.Now that you have:
I do not get ESPN Classic.
WTF?
I used to get it. I'm sure I did. But now I don't.
I'm pissed.
Now, instead of watching Kobe and Kidd on the same team, I'm going to pack for college. Why would Kobe and Co. even participate if no one in the U.S. can watch them?
Ugh. ESPN sucks. Not even Jessica Biel can make up for this.
(Note: Image from mypickspal.com)
USA Takes on the World and Inevitably Loses
If a live sporting event is televised on ESPN Classic, it's going to be special. It has to be.Tonight, at 11, the U.S. basketball team takes on Venezuela, on ESPN Classic.
I am kind of excited. There might never again be a chance to see Kobe, Lebron, Carmelo, and J-Kidd on the same team, actually trying.
If the U.S. doesn't make it to the finals of the FIBA Americas Tournament, they don't even make it to the Olympics. Even if they do make it to the Olympics, it's in Beijing, so I'll probably never watch it because of the time difference.
No Daily Show and Kolbert for me tonight. Once the Mets game is over, I'm heading over to watch what's guaranteed to be an instant classic.
If only Gilbert were playing...
Pitching Lessons from Mike Mussina
A few weeks ago, I did a post on the many magazines I was fortunate enough to get from unknowing Amherst students. I did not mention Play magazine in that post. That's because for some reason Play, like many high school newspapers, comes out every three months.With the U.S. Open looming, Play came out this past weekend. It is without a doubt the best sports magazine out there.
Every week the The New York Times Magazine comes out, I quickly glance to see if there are any articles about sports. Nothing beats a thoughtful, well-written sports article from the NYT Mag.
Play is basically a collection of sports articles that would otherwise find their way into the NYT Mag. SI and ESPN serve the fluff, Play has the substance.
There is one excerpt from the magazine I want to point out. There is neat two-page spread titled "The Art of Pitching" in which Mike Mussina takes you through the intricacies of pitching in the majors. Yes, I know Mussina should probably not be giving advice on pitching right now, but it is still interesting.
There is one section from the spread that particularly stands out. It was under the heading "The Scuffed Ball". Here's the excerpt:
Defacing a ball brings a 10-game suspension for pitchers, who have been known to apply scuff marks using sandpaper, a belt buckle, even a thumbtack. But a batted ball can easily get scratched up on the infield dirt. "If there's a scuff, I'm thinking, 'I've gotta use this while I've got it,'" Mussina says. "It brings physics into play." A ball directs its flight to a place of less resistance. If he holds the ball with the scuff on the left side, that side will have more resistance. Thus, the ball will fight its way down and to the right, making it seem to the hitter as if Mussina's sinker is especially lively. "I may get the next ball and it's completely smooth and there's no way I can make it do that again," Mussina says. "But the hitter doesn't know that."
I had never heard that before.
Baseball is such a great game.
Lets go Mets!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Pour Me a Little Bubbly
Dr. Housing Bubble diagnoses the real estate fever as starting to cool down. For our edification, he compiled two hilarious and foreboding lists of symptoms:
and
My personal favorite of the 15 real deals advertised above is a 432 square foot rambler south of San Diego going for $299,900. Anyone want to buy my living room and kitchen for that great low price?
Subprime's bubble is popping from Wall Street to Main Street. The newest worry is over money market funds that hold the short-term debt (commercial paper) of collateralized debt obligations heavy in subprime mortgages. Money market funds are supposed to be conservative alternatives to bank accounts. Instead, managers have attempted to increase risk and thus investor yield through deceptively rated junk.
Who knew that following an economic disaster could be so fun? Don't classify my amusement as schadenfreude, because I'm not laughing at lenders with poor credit ratings, or foreign owners of America's credit garbage, or Moody's stockholders, or hedge fund managers. I am instead receiving a first-rate lesson in finance and economics at their expense. The subprime meltdown seems to be spreading to all corners of finance and the globe, drawing the observer's attention to America's gilded age gluttony and imminent eclipse as sole superpower.
Better stop writing. Time to go and purchase one of those limited-offer SoCal mansions with a scarce subprime mortgage!
Superbad is Supergood
I've been wanting to write that title for the past couple days. It's extraordinary how many respected publications have used it, or something like it, and I wanted to get in on the alliteration. Whenever I finally saw the film, I was going to use that title no matter what, regardless of how good the movie was.I did see the movie last night, and the title of this post holds true. The movie was really good.
Typically, after watching a comedy, the ride home from the theater consists of a recounting of particularly funny moments.
"Oh, do you remember this part...! But how about that other scene when...! No, the best part was where....!"
The ride home from "Superbad" was not like this.
It was more like: "Wow, that was a freaking funny movie." No one scene defines it. Each scene simply melds together into two hours of great comedy. (Though, of course, there are some elementary school doodles from the movie that I might sadly never get out of my head.)
This past year, I watched "American Pie" with some kids in my college dorm. Someone won it in a raffle, and I remembered it being a pretty funny movie the first time I saw it, so I suggested we watch it. The screening was one of the more awkward, embarrassing moments of my freshman year in college. "American Pie" is only meant to be watched by those over 17 (it's rated NC-17), but it's only enjoyed but those under 17.
"Superbad" has a fairly similar plot line to "American Pie." Some high school kids want to get with girls before leaving for college. Yet beyond that, any comparison between the two films would be insulting to "Superbad." Yes, the movie is centered around high school, but it manages not to be merely a movie for high schoolers. This is an impressive feat.
While it was filled with more vulgarity than I had expected, it does not live and die with it, like those of the "American Pie" genre.
Typically, I cannot stand movies with the "dumb cop" characters. I get so frustrated. Why do incompetent cops always get in the way of justice? Yet with this film, I didn't feel that way at all. The cops definitely fit the dumb mold, but they are likable. In fact, every main character from the movie is likable. There are no bad guys. There are just abstract obstacles that have to be overcome--talking with girls, buying alcohol when you're too young, separating with your best friend before college. What male watching this film doesn't feel for Evan, Seth, and McLovin?
Ratatouille remains my favorite film of the summer, but "Superbad" sits in comfortably at second place.
(Note: There was a coming attraction for "Harold and Kumar Go to Gitmo." It just said it's coming out in 2008. I cannot wait.)
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Vegan Dessert Question of the Week!
Yesterday, my brother told me about an article from the Wall Street Journal in which LL Cool J lists his favorite songs to work out to. Sounds familiar.I'm not going to recall the list, since I'm slightly afraid of Rupert Murdoch. If you want to see it, it was in yesterday's "Pursuits" section.
The list got me thinking--do musicians listen to their own music?
When 50 Cent is working out in his gym, does he listen to "In da Club." When Diddy is training for a marathon, does he listen to "Come with Me?" When Kelly Clarkson is pumping iron, does she listen to "A Moment like This?"
LL Cool J did not list any of his own songs on the list.
Can someone get pumped up listening to his/her own voice? I wouldn't know, as none of my hits have made it to any CDs. Yet.
Maybe musicians get to a point where they can't even stand their own music. They have to sing the same songs over and over, from city to city. They're expected to have the same enthusiasm at the first stadium as at the twentieth.
50, Diddy, or any musicians out there reading my blog, can you answer my question--do you enjoy listening to your own music?
The Great Tomato Harvest of 2007
For some reason, in my family's garden, we have 24 tomato plants. This might make sense for a family with 10 kids or an Italian restaurant, but neither of these are descriptions of my family. Hell, I don't even like tomatoes.
It's been a lot of fun maintaing them, though, and I'm glad we have so many.
Yet, today a minor problem developed. This morning, my dad and I brought home roughly 75 tomatoes (see photo). We already had ten in the fridge. That's a bit too many for us to handle.
If anyone reading this blog wants a tomato, drop a comment. We might be able to work something out, assuming you pay for the shipping and handling.
Top Five Disneyland Rides
Every year of my post-toddler childhood in California, I relished going to Disneyland. After moving to Minnesota, my family would sometimes fly back to L.A. in the summer, and the primary object of my whining was to get to Disneyland. When I took a marching band trip to Disney World in high school, I wished I was at Disneyland instead.
Disneyland is the authentic amusement park. Even today, when driving between Orange County and L.A., the Matterhorn looms over the freeway and beckons with promises of adventure.
Stay at Disneyland all day -- no trip is complete without collapsing exhausted at a table in some overpriced cafe as the clock approaches midnight. And then stumble down to the man-made lake next to the Haunted Mansion for the overhyped laser light show. I remember canoeing on that body of water. Instead of productively paddling, I just splashed my parents.
After going on every classic ride a countless number of times, here's my well-ruminated list of favorites (which I can't limit it to five this time):
6. Storybook Land Canal Boats: The best part of this often underrated ride is the intricate detail included in its scenic miniatures. To quote Wikipedia, "The houses in Storybook Land are fitted with six-inch doors and quarter-inch hinges that open and close, so the Disney electricians can change the lightbulbs." Unlike "It's a Small World," this ride doesn't attempt to awe with pastel overload and a catchy tune.
Disneyland is the authentic amusement park. Even today, when driving between Orange County and L.A., the Matterhorn looms over the freeway and beckons with promises of adventure.
Stay at Disneyland all day -- no trip is complete without collapsing exhausted at a table in some overpriced cafe as the clock approaches midnight. And then stumble down to the man-made lake next to the Haunted Mansion for the overhyped laser light show. I remember canoeing on that body of water. Instead of productively paddling, I just splashed my parents.
After going on every classic ride a countless number of times, here's my well-ruminated list of favorites (which I can't limit it to five this time):
8. Disneyland Railroad: I love hopping aboard the park's steam locomotives and traveling back in time to the Primeval World of Mesozoic monsters. One of the original rides from 1955, it has remained a popular attraction and mode of transportation around Disneyland ever since.
7. Space Mountain: I used to think this was the scariest a roller coaster could get, especially since the harness didn't fasten my first time on it. An original score was written for the ride when it opened in 1977 -- Dick Dale was brought in to play surf guitar riffs for the part after you crest the first big hill. The score was based on the "Aquarium" movement of Saint-Saens's "The Carnival of the Animals."
6. Storybook Land Canal Boats: The best part of this often underrated ride is the intricate detail included in its scenic miniatures. To quote Wikipedia, "The houses in Storybook Land are fitted with six-inch doors and quarter-inch hinges that open and close, so the Disney electricians can change the lightbulbs." Unlike "It's a Small World," this ride doesn't attempt to awe with pastel overload and a catchy tune.
5. Autopia: As a young car enthusiast, this was a highlight of my Disneyland hajj. What makes Autopia most enthralling to its young and unlicensed drivers is the deceptive amount of freedom granted at the pedal (the vehicles' top speed is only 6.5 miles per hour).
4. Mad Tea Party: In my family, the teacups are a father-son bonding experience. My mother refuses to ride for reasons alluded to in the above picture. I love cranking on that central turntable with all my might, although the craft seem to exhibit an invariable maximum rotational velocity.
3. The Haunted Mansion: Jam-packed with macabre nuance, this Disneyland staple funnels guests through intricate optical illusions. An octagonal room initially drops you to the main level of the ride (the haunted house is nothing but a facade). But instead of going down, it looks like the walls are elongating up. On one wall panel that I distinctly remember, a dainty damsel dances a tightrope above a pit of hungry crocodiles. Another panel depicts three gentlemen stacked atop each other in a pool of quicksand. The Haunted Mansion's most enjoyable feature is its mix of humor and horror. In one section of the journey, one occupant of your Doom Buggy vehicle will appear in an illusory portrait alongside a caricatured ghostly manor lord.
2. Pirates of the Caribbean: Your pirate bark sails the seven seas and drops over two waterfalls in this classic flume ride. My favorite part of the voyage comes when the craft is caught in a barrage of broadsides and swept beside a rowdy Caribbean tavern broadcasting the memorable "Yo Ho" theme song. According to Wikipedia, one gluttonous rogue bespeaks such lines as, "Me belly be feeling like galleon with a load of treasure," and "I be looking for a fine pork loin, I be."
1. Mr. Toad's Wild Ride: This ride tops my list due to its cohesive plot, unpredictable path, and variety of environments ranging from Toad Hall to Hell, all while you're seated in a spiffy old car. At certain points, different groups in different cars appear to almost crash. Perishing after collision with a train, punishment for your recklessness is quickly forthcoming, but Disney's divine intervention brings you back to the entrance of Mr. Toad's entropic abode. Could it be that the common thread of my top three rides is dark comedy, their ability to impart a sense of vicarious villainry?
Friday, August 17, 2007
Random YouTube Video of the Day
It sucks to be on the outside of an inside joke. Especially when the "insiders" total a couple million people.
A few years ago, such a large inside joke would have seemed impossible. Yet, thanks to YouTube, inside jokes can spread like a virus. One person finds a YouTube clip. He shows it to five kids in his dorm room. They like it, and each shows it to five kids in his or her dorm room. And so on. Soon, the world is blanketed with the joke.
Today, at a breakfast with friends, I was clearly on the outside of a YouTube inside joke, and it didn't feel good. A reference was made, everyone laughed, except for me.
Here's the clip they were referring to. It' s really not all that funny. Everyone at the breakfast table claimed it was a YouTube craze, and I'm doing my part to make sure you're not awkwardly on the outside of a YouTube, all inclusive inside joke. It's called "Charlie the Unicorn:"
A few years ago, such a large inside joke would have seemed impossible. Yet, thanks to YouTube, inside jokes can spread like a virus. One person finds a YouTube clip. He shows it to five kids in his dorm room. They like it, and each shows it to five kids in his or her dorm room. And so on. Soon, the world is blanketed with the joke.
Today, at a breakfast with friends, I was clearly on the outside of a YouTube inside joke, and it didn't feel good. A reference was made, everyone laughed, except for me.
Here's the clip they were referring to. It' s really not all that funny. Everyone at the breakfast table claimed it was a YouTube craze, and I'm doing my part to make sure you're not awkwardly on the outside of a YouTube, all inclusive inside joke. It's called "Charlie the Unicorn:"
A Little Help, Please
Every week in Time magazine, there is a feature in which some author I've never heard of lists the five most influential books he's ever read. This summer, Dubliners by James Joyce seemed to come up more than any book, so I decided to read it.It took me a while, but I finished the book on Tuesday. I've realized this summer that with the proliferation of blogs and on-line periodicals, it is becoming harder and harder for me to finish a novel. There are too many freaking distractions.
Luckily, Dubliners is a collection of short stories, so I was able to read it in spurts and finish it.
Now that I'm done, I'm a bit confused and actually upset with myself. Yeah, the short stories were interesting and well wrtitten, but I don't see how they fit together? What makes Dubliners great?
Maybe this has something to do with how I read the book. I didn't look for connections between the stories. I read them as isolated tales in an anthology of short stories. Maybe I should go back and read it as one large story, broken down into separate episodes.
Yet until then, I just don't get Dubliners.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Random Break.com (?) Video of the Week
Earlier in the summer, I posted one of my favorite YouTube videos of all time: human tetris.
Now Japan gives us human billboard:
http://view.break.com/348583 - Watch more free videos
Now that's how we make soccer popular in America. Stick 22 guys up there, including Beckham, and I might actually pay to watch.
Thanks to AwfulAnnouncing for the video.
Now Japan gives us human billboard:
http://view.break.com/348583 - Watch more free videos
Now that's how we make soccer popular in America. Stick 22 guys up there, including Beckham, and I might actually pay to watch.
Thanks to AwfulAnnouncing for the video.
Beware the Two Headed Tomato
Behold the siamese tomato! This was picked this afternoon from my family garden. Looking back, I wish I had performed surgery while the tomato was still on the plant to see if the two could by separated and continue to grow.
I hope that this doesn't have anything to do with the arsenic that is allegedly in the soil of our garden...
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Clouds and Farms Do Not Get Along
A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about China's war against clouds. In order to have perfect Olympics at the 2008 Olympic Games, China is trying to control the weather with missiles. Seriously.Though I'm not sure if the Chinese are even allowed to read this blog, I have a much simpler, safer solution for them--surround Beijing with farms.
By way of yesterday's "Science Times" comes a very interesting story about Australia's 2000 mile rabbit barrier and what it means for the continent's clouds.
One side of the fence, built in 1907, is filled with farmland whereas the other side has native vegetation. According to the article, written by Sonal Noticewala, the side with native vegetation is consistently blanketed with clouds while the farm side is clear.
The article is bizarre in so many ways. First, I had no idea such a fence existed. It turns out, according to Noticewala, that it hasn't been successful in keeping rabbits out of the farms.
Secondly, and more importantly, it's extraordinary that humans actions on the ground could impact the weather to such a large extent. The picture at the top of this post says it all. It is kind of frightening. Aren't clouds supposed to be above humans?
The irony is also fantastic. Farms themselves can actually bring on a drought. Farmers may have to find a way to trick the clouds. I suggest they try using some of Beijing's missiles.
The Tortoise Lifestyle
Four days after getting home, I'm already back into the tortoise-walking routine. Wake up at 10:30, take a 20-minute shower, eat a bowl of Quaker Oat Squares topped with my mother's famous fruit salad, take out the tortoise.
As Tony persistently presses over the lawn in a preordained direction, I lounge on the front porch or deck stairway and catch up on backlogged Smithsonians and National Geographics, or read up on Petrov's Defense (e4 e5, nf3 nf6, nf3xe5 ...). Maybe last night's storm with straight-line winds tossed wood chips from the neighbor's bed into our yard, and I'll rake them into tidy piles. Or the occasional passerby on foot or wheel might stop and marvel at Tony as he nears the street, and I'll act out the role of docent.
There were a few good articles in July's Smithsonian. Sometime approximately five or seven thousand years ago there lived a common descendant of every human being on Earth, alongside a slew of uncommon descendents. Edward Hopper's first artistic success didn't come until he was into his 40s. But after the triumph of his Cape Ann watercolors in 1924, recognition and fame were forthcoming, and a Hopper retrospective was mounted at the MOMA in 1931. August's National Geographic claims that 0.13 milliseconds is all the time needed for the trap-jaw ant to accelerate its jaws from zero to 143 miles per hour, a reflex often used to spring the ant off the body of a predator. A nice map of Central America also came with that issue, but unless one discounts Asia's topography, the factoid, "Mexico: So mountainous, if flattened it would cover Asia," is patently false.
As Tony persistently presses over the lawn in a preordained direction, I lounge on the front porch or deck stairway and catch up on backlogged Smithsonians and National Geographics, or read up on Petrov's Defense (e4 e5, nf3 nf6, nf3xe5 ...). Maybe last night's storm with straight-line winds tossed wood chips from the neighbor's bed into our yard, and I'll rake them into tidy piles. Or the occasional passerby on foot or wheel might stop and marvel at Tony as he nears the street, and I'll act out the role of docent.
There were a few good articles in July's Smithsonian. Sometime approximately five or seven thousand years ago there lived a common descendant of every human being on Earth, alongside a slew of uncommon descendents. Edward Hopper's first artistic success didn't come until he was into his 40s. But after the triumph of his Cape Ann watercolors in 1924, recognition and fame were forthcoming, and a Hopper retrospective was mounted at the MOMA in 1931. August's National Geographic claims that 0.13 milliseconds is all the time needed for the trap-jaw ant to accelerate its jaws from zero to 143 miles per hour, a reflex often used to spring the ant off the body of a predator. A nice map of Central America also came with that issue, but unless one discounts Asia's topography, the factoid, "Mexico: So mountainous, if flattened it would cover Asia," is patently false.
Serene like Hopper's "Cape Cod Afternoon"
Tony is constantly refining his tastes. Today, he wasn't fond of the purple flowers in the front pine grove. Those are usually a staple of his diet. Of course, his system could also be clogged, much to my detriment in the near future.
When I come down into the kitchen sometime around 11, Tony is out on the deck, violently pacing near the guard rail banisters. He pauses in midstep when I open the screen door and tentatively reorients himself toward me, expecting my crane-like arms to hoist him into flight and shuttle him onto the yard below.
A low, rotting plank of wood lies across the top of the stairs to prevent Tony from tumbling off. I quickly hop this obstacle, catching my heel on the half foot of deck behind it, and taking the first flight of steps two at a time. It is paramount to keep Tony level while holding him aloft, because his heavy back end might let loose a nice present if it is tipped back too markedly.
I make sure Tony finishes an aerial stride before depositing him on the back concrete patio. He might awkwardly stumble otherwise. If I'm lucky, Tony will take the heading toward the street, which is his longest backyard route. Otherwise, I have to frequently run over and grab him before he starts browsing in the neighbor's vegetable garden. Sometimes Tony gets caught by the prickly plant buffet edging the garden, in which case I don't have to act for another couple minutes.
Adapting to the ways of the tortoise provides as rigorous a philosophy as Confucian ritual and as calming a lifestyle as Buddhist meditation. Now I should stop zoning out Tony's scratching on the kitchen door and take him on another walk.
DO NOT Mess with Jose Offerman
There's a certain novelty to independent league baseball. Unlike the minor leagues, which mostly consists of young hopefuls you've never heard of, the independent league is full of has beens who think they still have it, but clearly don't.As a "fan" of the Bridgeport Bluefish of the Atlantic League, I've seen John Rocker close up in the bull pen, Pete Rose's son on the base paths, Jose Offerman at 2nd base, and the Tommy John as manager.
However, I can't say that I have ever been at game where the pitcher and catcher got assaulted by a player with a baseball bat.
Last night, after getting hit by a ball thrown by a Bluefish pitcher, Jose Offerman, now of the Long Island Ducks, attacked the pitcher and catcher with his bat.
From an ESPN.com news brief:
"According to the Connecticut Post, Beech was hit on the hands as he attempted to defend himself, while catcher John Nathans was hit in the back of the head on Offerman's backswing. Police said Beech, a left-hander, sustained a broken right middle finger, and Nathans later suffered from nausea, the newspaper reported."
Offerman was once a soild Major Leaguer, playing for the Dodgers, Royals, Red Sox, and several other teams including the Mets.
Now, the Bluefish CEO is asking for Offerman to be banned from the Independent League for life.
Don't be surprised if Offerman is quickly snatched by a major league team. Guys with character issues seem to be a hot commodity in sports these days.
(Photo from AP/Christian Abraham (Connecticut Post))
Monday, August 13, 2007
Why I Hate Roger Clemens...
A few weeks ago, I harped praise on aoctober.com, an MLB run website that gives fans a chance to reanact great baseball moments to try to win World Series Tickets. This week's finalists are fantastic. You have love how Major League Baseball is rewarding fans for making fun of the league.
Here's the best video from this weeks batch. It's pretty astounding that Clemens actually threw the bat at Piaza and didn't get ejected:
This one comes in at a close second, at least by my vote:
Thanks to Metsblog.com for reminding me of the website.
Here's the best video from this weeks batch. It's pretty astounding that Clemens actually threw the bat at Piaza and didn't get ejected:
This one comes in at a close second, at least by my vote:
Thanks to Metsblog.com for reminding me of the website.
Watch "Law & Order" Reruns While You Can!
It seems some what strange to me that former Tennessee Senator Fred Thompson has basically been running a presidential campaign for the past several months but has yet to announce his candidacy.What's the deal? Why feign suspense when everyone knows what's coming?
Finally, I think I understand. According to a brief in the business section of today's New York Times, once Thompson announces his candidacy, NBC will have to stop showing reruns of "Law & Order" in which he appears. This would be to adhere to the presidential candidate equal air-time regulations.
I don't watch "Law & Order" much. Some how, it seems like I've already seen every rerun. Are there just ten episodes of "Law & Order" that circulate over and over?
Anyway, Thompson is showing some nice loyalty to "Law & Order" fans by delaying his candidacy, and he should be lauded for this.
For anyone who wants to halt Thompson's candidacy, I have an idea. You can start a mass movement to boost the ratings of "Law & Order" reruns. Maybe the additional royalties will make Thompson reconsider his political ambitions.
Rock Art
The Crafoord Prize, the Nobel equivalent for the geosciences and three other fields, has been awarded to only one paleontologist. Adolf Seilacher, the 80-something-year-old recipient, asserts that his career has been spent as a paleodetective, a sleuth in deep time. Sherlockian reconstruction of ancient events requires both scientific and artistic insight; Seilacher’s work in structural morphology and ichnology involves a surprising amount of the latter.
Ichnology is the study of trace fossils, or biogenic structures that provide evidence of the maker’s activity. Dinosaur footprints are one example. Worm burrows are another. Animal traces litter the landscape; while conducting research this summer, I began to notice the residue of animal life everywhere, in and outside the fossil record. For example, tadpoles nest in polygonal pits on the bottoms of ponds and puddles. Shallow pools in the quarries of Wisconsin house tessellations of these structures. On certain slabs in Amherst College's natural history collection, facsimiles of tadpole nests are found alongside dinosaur tracks. In fact, Amherst’s first science professor and third president (as well as my distant relative), Edward Hitchcock, correlated modern tadpole nests with those sedimentary features, although they have since been recognized as polygonal mud cracks.
Seilacher’s diagrammatic illustrations of trace fossil production are famous in the paleontological community. He identified the asymmetrical and elongate marks of Dimorphichnus as scratches left by trilobites traveling obliquely to the water current. Accompanying a description of his interpretation, Seilacher drew an exquisite overlay depicting the leg and body motions of the trace maker. To explain fractional worm burrows that cross through different depositional layers of sedimentary rock, he invoked spiraling worm networks in three-dimensional space and intricately illustrated hypothetical full burrow systems.
Trace fossils are important as both environmental and behavioral indicators. Seilacher proposed the idea of ichnofacies, or assemblages of certain types of trace fossils found in different environmental conditions. Water depth and oxygen levels are two variables that can determine ichnofacies. The pioneering ichnologist also expanded the application of trace fossils as behavioral indicators, including the proposal of a scheme for trace fossil subdivision based on function (e.g., dwelling vs. farming structures).
Ichnology is the study of trace fossils, or biogenic structures that provide evidence of the maker’s activity. Dinosaur footprints are one example. Worm burrows are another. Animal traces litter the landscape; while conducting research this summer, I began to notice the residue of animal life everywhere, in and outside the fossil record. For example, tadpoles nest in polygonal pits on the bottoms of ponds and puddles. Shallow pools in the quarries of Wisconsin house tessellations of these structures. On certain slabs in Amherst College's natural history collection, facsimiles of tadpole nests are found alongside dinosaur tracks. In fact, Amherst’s first science professor and third president (as well as my distant relative), Edward Hitchcock, correlated modern tadpole nests with those sedimentary features, although they have since been recognized as polygonal mud cracks.
Seilacher’s diagrammatic illustrations of trace fossil production are famous in the paleontological community. He identified the asymmetrical and elongate marks of Dimorphichnus as scratches left by trilobites traveling obliquely to the water current. Accompanying a description of his interpretation, Seilacher drew an exquisite overlay depicting the leg and body motions of the trace maker. To explain fractional worm burrows that cross through different depositional layers of sedimentary rock, he invoked spiraling worm networks in three-dimensional space and intricately illustrated hypothetical full burrow systems.
Trace fossils are important as both environmental and behavioral indicators. Seilacher proposed the idea of ichnofacies, or assemblages of certain types of trace fossils found in different environmental conditions. Water depth and oxygen levels are two variables that can determine ichnofacies. The pioneering ichnologist also expanded the application of trace fossils as behavioral indicators, including the proposal of a scheme for trace fossil subdivision based on function (e.g., dwelling vs. farming structures).
The reason I write about ichnology and concentrate on the field’s catalyzing scientist is that in an upcoming post, I hope to explain my summer research involving trace fossils in more depth. To appreciate the curiously arranged divots and tubes dotting rocks and speckling modern soil, one must imagine history as it transpired, the animals as they breathed. When used in conjunction, art and science provide indispensable tools with which to tackle the task.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Let's Talk About Food
I'm home in CT. Miller's home in Minny. Our summer research has come to a close, and now we have nothing to do but sleep, eat our mother's cooking, and blog. In the next few weeks, we will have a number of introspective, retrospective, metacognitive posts. We'll reflect on what we did in the lab this summer, in the blogosphere, and in our lives. We've learned a lot, and we want to share some of it with you.Of course, mixed in with this, we'll have our usual, completely random posts.
For my first reflection, I'm going to focus on all things food. With no mom to cook, and no unlimited meal plan, I did some serious culinary exploring this summer. Here are some things I learned:
No, I don't want Ketchup, or Mayo, or Lettuce on that: I am to eating what Tim Duncan is to basketball--plain, simple, boring, predictable. This summer, I realized I'll either have to diversify my gastric portfolio or accept many more uncomfortable situations. Restaurants should love an eater like me--I pay just as much as everyone else, yet I don't get any condiments, or dressings, or sauces on anything I eat. I save them time, supplies, and thus money. Yet, when I make my order, they look down on me. They judge me. They mock me. To them, I am just a lowly rat, and they are Remy. If you ask me, all dishes should start off plain, and then people ordering should have to work their way up. It should be a turkey sandwich with mayo, not a turkey sandwich without mayo. That was bit of a rant, and I apologize, but it felt really good to get it out.
Grapes are Great: This summer reinforced my belief that grapes are the best food in existence.
The Three Amherst Restaurants Worth Eating At: Earlier in the summer, I completely bashed the Amherst food scene as expensive, limited, and simply not all that good. I've essentially done ten weeks of research and have come up with three eateries that are gems in the rough. They are reasonably priced, have a friendly atmosphere, and most importantly, serve excellent food:
-Bueno y Sano. Burritos and quesadillas aren't my thing, but their salads are fantastic. A great post-exercise meal. In the intangibles department, I really like that, though it's not sit down, they have real silverware. This is officially my favorite place to eat in Amherst.
-Rao's. The best muffins in town.
-The Lone Wolf. In an ideal world, breakfast food would be served for every meal. In this ideal world, I wouldn't mind eating at the Lone Wolf all the time. From crepes to Challah french toast, this quick service sit down restaurant should not be overlooked.
Raspberry, White Chocolate Moose is the best yogurt combo ever.
Would you like some Anti-Viral Software with your order?: Early on in the summer, I noticed that at Subway there was a sign explaining how you could place an order on-line and then pick it up on the spot. I never did this, because I found it somewhat ridiculous. However, it turns out that on-line food ordering is become widely used. In an article from last week's Sunday Styles, Stephanie Rosenbloom explains that a growing number of people use on-line services to make their fast food purchasing as efficient and hassle free as possible. It's an interesting read. Next up for the fast food industry: allowing consumers to print out the food straight from a computer. Until then, I think I'll stay away from ordering food on-line.
Instant Oatmeal, So Hot Right Now: By my rough estimate, after counting the empty the boxes, Miller and I had over 110 individual instant oatmeal packets this summer for breakfast. Nothing's better for waking you up in the morning. I'm not addicted to caffeine, I'm addicted to Quaker Oats Cinnamon and Spice Instant Oatmeal.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Where's the Dessert?
Don't worry. The Vegan Dessert is not finished, it's just been baking in the oven for a while.Miller and I finish our research tomorrow, and its been a sprint to the finish. We have to make posters explaining what we did over the summer, and it's pretty time intensive. Computers can really suck some time, and for the past few days, computers have sucked all the time. As a result, we haven't had time to post.
We had planned on ending the blog this weekend, but now I'm thinking it'll stay up through Labor Day. I've been doing some bad posts as of late, and I want to end on a high note. I want to end like MJ (circa 98) and not MJ (circa 2005). Like Reggie Miller (circa 2005), not Reggie Miller (circa 2009).
So until the weekend (or maybe tomorrow night), everyone will have to remain hungry and salivating. I apologize. Sometimes it's good for you to stay away from desserts for a day or two, especially when you know something great is on the way. Think of it as if you're going to a Bar Mitzvah this weekend and want to be able to storm through the dessert buffet without guilt.
Here's a quick question of the week. Currently, on Facebook's Roshambull (RPS) application, it says "JT is a puma." Can someone explain? Thank you.
(Note: I cannot confirm if the picture is actually a vegan dessert. For one, I don't know the ingredients. But secondly, I'm not sure if it is against vegan rules to eat something that looks like it is alive.)
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Subprime Blues
One of God's attendant's has passed judgment. "The punishment has been meted out to those who have done misdeeds and made bad judgments," Mr. Poole declared. "We are getting good evidence that the companies and hedge funds that are being hit are the ones who deserve it.''One month before the St. Louis Fed President's declaration, Bear Sterns closed two of its hedge funds burdened by the debt of subprime sin; 10 day prior, that same company cut the credit ratings of $12 billion of subprime backed bonds. The B-paper crisis threatens to spill into the A minus range. On Monday, American Home Mortgage, a large lender to borrowers with Alt-A ratings, the credit standing just inferior to the highest possible, announced bankruptcy. American Home's decline was precipitous, with most of the selloff confined to this last week. In January of this year, its stock was brushing an all-time high.
The Monday market session shrugged off subprime woes to prey on recently devalued shares. Many, including Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke (God) and Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson, state that the troubles are unlikely to have significant ramifications. In their minds, unsophisticated borrowers and risk-thirsty lenders are paying the price of myopic decision making.
On Tuesday, the Federal Open Market Committee kept the benchmark rate steady at 5.25 percent. "A sustained moderation in inflation pressures has yet to be convincingly demonstrated," the FOMC members wrote. Although they noted ongoing stock market turbulence, their neutral language suggests that if we hold our breaths long enough, the hiccups will go away.
Certain visionaries foresee doomsday. That raving mad pundit, Jim Kramer, has started broadcasting his take on pessimistic insider scuttlebutt. Kramer's self-professed courageous moral stand insists that the Fed is turning a blind eye to obvious signs of economic distress. In a clip from CNBC, he breaks down. "He's nuts! They're nuts! They know nothing!" Right over the horizon lies 1987, 1990.
The heads are beginning to roll. On Monday, one of Bear Stearns's two presidents was kicked out in the wake of the dual hedge fund implosion. The Democratic Congress is issuing threats. "Use it or lose it," Barney Frank told the Fed, referring to their neglected consumer protection capacities. Federal inquiries into "predatory lending" will likely claim a few corporate victims in the coming year.
Meltdown in the subprime mortgage sector affects three main groups. Firstly are the borrowers of the loans. Subprime borrowers are defined as having weak credit histories, often including bankruptcy in the last five years, two or more 30-day debt payment delinquencies in the last year, or foreclosure in the last year. In Denver, a city hit hard by the crisis, one out of every 21 mortgages foreclosed in 2006. From 2005 to 2006, there was a nationwide 42 percent rise in foreclosures. This year, the increase is predicted to be another 33 percent.
A strong housing market postponed the disaster. Borrowers were able to refinance with their new equity. But as the market cooled and rates started resetting, the unlucky started facing untenable payment schedules. An estimated $265 billion of subprime mortgages are due to reset this year.
Suffering mortgage companies have desperately pulled in every outstanding line of credit, and loans are no longer forthcoming from financiers. Myriad lenders are cutting off their subprime mortgage arms. Today, Atlanta-based HomeBanc, Corp. announced the elimination of its entire mortgage business. Considering the number of companies that have taken similar action in the last year, there must be a sizeable number of newly unemployed.
As the borrowers started defaulting, Wall Street firms that owned pacakaged loans, called "collateralized debt obligations," took a share of the pain. The two defunct subprime-laden Bear Stearns funds folded after Merill Lynch hastily reclaimed $850 million of advanced credit.
A worrisome aspect of the whole matter is that Wall Street may lose its appetite for high-risk financing. How has the recent wave of buyouts been financed? Only partially through subprime debts; also through a wide range of other dicey tools. But in recent months, it has seemed as if leveraged buyouts are the only bull-baiters. If that action slows or ceases, from where will the stock market draw inspiration?
Suffering mortgage companies have desperately pulled in every outstanding line of credit, and loans are no longer forthcoming from financiers. Myriad lenders are cutting off their subprime mortgage arms. Today, Atlanta-based HomeBanc, Corp. announced the elimination of its entire mortgage business. Considering the number of companies that have taken similar action in the last year, there must be a sizeable number of newly unemployed.
As the borrowers started defaulting, Wall Street firms that owned pacakaged loans, called "collateralized debt obligations," took a share of the pain. The two defunct subprime-laden Bear Stearns funds folded after Merill Lynch hastily reclaimed $850 million of advanced credit.
A worrisome aspect of the whole matter is that Wall Street may lose its appetite for high-risk financing. How has the recent wave of buyouts been financed? Only partially through subprime debts; also through a wide range of other dicey tools. But in recent months, it has seemed as if leveraged buyouts are the only bull-baiters. If that action slows or ceases, from where will the stock market draw inspiration?
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