A vanishing act

And he woke up that day and realized that the music had faded to a dull, monotonous mumble that festered and collected in the corner.
And he woke up that day and realized that words disappeared from the page, forgotten and empty as a blank wall.
And he woke up that day and realized that color had lost its hue as it rotted away in drab, grey uniformity.
And he woke up that day and realized that it had happened the day before. And the day before. And so on…

But whereas withering resignation and insulated safety had filled that space before…where distorted vision and clouded thoughts cast a pallor over endless days turned black in times past….this time there would be armies mobilized in defiance, fists pounded on tables to splinter boards and shatter glasses.

Too much electricity had fired through the marrow of those bones to see it drain away in darkness’ decay. The spirits of doom hadn’t expected a fight; they’d expected a willing victim collapsing into the suffocation of their miasmic arms. Not this time. He played a quiet, fresh note and it was good. Then there was the swift wind that ignited something. So fleeting a palpitation, but long enough to spark the crucial memory.

Begging for ingenuity and creation and vibrancy and the aroma of sweat and passion he set out to find the wizards in the underbelly of the block city. Hiding away from the dazed masses in their daily grind, these misfits chanted ancient spells, stirred exotic potions and danced to chants alive with thumping drums and shrieking ravens and enchanted snake swoops.

Knowing that empty is dead, he set off to look….

Please don't ask why i was looking at this

From Wikipedia:

Biologist Barry Sinervo from the University of California, Santa Cruz has discovered a Rock-Paper-Scissors evolutionary strategy in the mating behavior of the side-blotched lizard species Uta stansburiana. Males have either orange, blue or yellow throats and each type follows a fixed, hereditable mating strategy:

* Orange-throated males are strongest and do not form strong pair bonds; instead, they fight orange-throated males for their females. Yellow-throated males, however, manage to snatch females away from them for mating.
* Blue-throated males are middle-sized and form strong pair bonds. While they are outcompeted by orange-throated males, they can defend against yellow-throated ones.
* Yellow-throated males are smallest, and their coloration mimicks females. Under this disguise, they can approach orange-throated males but not the stronger-bonding blue-throated specimens and mating while the orange-throats are engaged in fights.

The proportion of each male type in a population is similar in the long run, but fluctuates heavily in the short term. For periods of 4-5 years, one strategy predominates, after which it declines in frequency as the strategy that manages to exploit its weakness increases.

If interested in further research, please visit your neighborhood bar on Friday evening.

The District in all its glory

While walking along the banks of the Potomac this weekend, I was reminded how spectacular DC is in the autumn. Sunny, fresh days and crisp, cold mornings and nights. Although I had to capture yesterday's images only in my memory, it made me recall a day at exactly this time last fall when I set off with a pair of sneakers and a camera to catch some shots of the area (unemployment does have some benefits!). Here's a few more of my favorite images from that day.

So many dead

The violence in Iraq baffles the imagination. Another 90 + killed in mosques. Another 6 + killed in hotels. Atleast 4 more people obliterated their bodies in the name of religion and politics and hate and desperation. No one needs another tirade launched about the war’s legitimacy and it’s execution, so let me keep this brief. Suffice it to say, the Hussein regime and it’s brutal repression needed to go, but this was not the way to do it. The hubris, ideological distortion, and selfish motives that led our current administration into this quagmire have destroyed so many lives unnecessarily and alienated us for generations from so many people it makes you nauseous to consider. The soldiers in Iraq are doing incredible things by building the infrastructure for modern development, opening schools, and giving oppressed people a ballot. But those actions are overshadowed by the instability that’s a direct offshoot of our essentially unilateral approach. It’s cynical and ridiculous to characterize the Bush administration as purely evil. Those who do see the world in black and white, and that’s bullshit. Aside from the oil reserves and callous geopolitical strategizing, those who masterminded and directed this campaign also considered 100’s of thousands killed or maimed by chemical warfare and wanton slaughter at the hands of the Hussein regime. But moral indignation doesn’t justify brash, irresponsible retaliation that, in many ways, compounds the misery. We should have the whole goddamn world playing a part in this enterprise and ensuring that instead of strapping nails and wire to their chests, those people reap the benefits of democracy and freedom. This never was a job for such a limited military contingent, and maybe not a military contingent at all. Regardless of how positive the ultimate outcome-and I truly hope stability and democracy prevail-those who calculated this assault and reconstruction have erred on an unforgivable scale and can now only hope to save face, and a few innocent, war-torn lives.

Gobble, gobble it up

A little sumthin' sumthin' to get in the Thanksgiving mood.

Always good to know

So i was looking at my world map yesterday (seriously) and focused in on that ever-neglected country Burma (Myanmar). I was thinking how odd it is that a country of fairly significant size (slighly smaller than Texas) in an ever-increasingly important region in the world receives hardly any press. So i was thinking, what the hell's going on in Burma?

Well, today I found out. Apparently, the ruling military Junta packed up their supplies (and government) and headed out of the capital, Yangoon (alt. Rangoon), northward into the mountains. Somewhere about 200 miles north of Yangoon now sits the Burmese government. Just chillin'. Chillin' up in the Burmese mountains at their new pad called Pyinmanaa. This is weird, right?

But it's really not that big of a deal, though, because "foreign diplomats said they were told that if they had urgent business with the relocated government, they could send a fax but that no number was yet available." So it's not like they're completely outty-5. Offering the explanation that they needed to find a "more centrally located government seat", alternative theories seemingly now abound. At the top of the list sits speculation that top Burmese officials fear an imminent invasion by the United States, and hence, withdrew to their fortified bastion in the mountains.

Is this what will finally push the US and China over the brink and into the potentially catastrophic throes of WWIII. Burma? Myanmar? According to them, maybe. As young military recruits in Burma are instructed by their superiors, "you are the holding action against the Americans until the Chinese come to our aid".

And now I know what's going on in Burma.

Possibly, best news imaginable

It's WAY too early to predict how this will unravel, but credible news sources are discussing how a British man supposedly managed to expunge the AIDS virus from his body. Even more remarkably, he accomplished this without the aid of any medicine, whatsoever. Although I fear a simpler and less promising solution to this mystery might surface, I hope more than anything that this patient's anomalous case could be the long-awaited turning point in our imperiled battle against the vicious disease.

WORST NEWS IMAGINABLE

The day of doom has arrived: FOX DECIDED TO CANCEL ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT. I'm pretty speechless right now that by far-absolutely no question about it-the funniest and most creatively written, produced, and acted show on television is being plucked from its nest in the infancy of its prime.

As stated in the article, "The two back-to-back episodes averaged a paltry 4 million viewers Monday". 4 million pop-culture-drenched, television-addicted, short-attention-span-plagued people in this entire world sat down and watched this show on Monday. 4 million.
I've tried on many occasions to care whatsoever about the bullshit aired elsewhere on television. I've tried hard to get excited about reality shows to join their cult followings and make Tuesday night more exciting. I've attempted to become attached to other television shows and it just hasn't happened. I guess I'm boring but I can't fool myself into caring about those shows whatsoever, even given the surrounding social context.

But Arrested Development is different. Arrested Development is about the content; it's about the show itself and that's what's beautiful. It's about shaking your head one moment at the utter absurdity and brilliance of a sketch and rolling over on the couch in laughter the next. it's about heaving a pleasurable sigh while the credits roll and knowing those 22 minutes made your day. it's about Buster getting his damn hand bit off by a seal, okay.

Look, Fox is a business and they need to make money. If nobody's watching, then sponsors don't want to pay for commercial time. They resurrected this show from the dead once, and I thank them for that. All i know is that the people who are fans of this show are obsessive because they realize that trite bullshit is shelved for a half-hour each week, replaced by innovation, creativity and utter brilliance. Although I'm not thrilled with Fox and really think a continued investment in this show could pay off huge, my real antipathy finds it target in the general television-watching-populace that supports inanity over art.

I'm pissed.

"There is a possibility that the show will be shopped around, but its high cost is expected to be prohibitive for a cable network." Let's make it happen.

Good luck, indeed

If you haven’t seen Good Night and Good Luck [produced and written by George Clooney, screenplay by Grant Heslov], go see it. Now.

For those who don’t know, the movie focuses on a narrow period in the career of pioneer broadcast journalist Edward R. Murrow. Although Murrow’s legacy extends far beyond this window to include historic reporting during WWII and afterwards, this film concentrates on the battle that he and his production team at CBS waged against Wisconsin Senator Joseph McCarthy. As a junior senator from Wisconsin, McCarthy terrorized the fabric of America’s social landscape by launching spurious crusades against people he suspected to be associated with Communism, hence, the ensuing Red Scare. Largely due to the editorial pieces written and read on-camera by Murrow, McCarthy’s credit was debased and the Senate ultimately voted in 1954 that he performed "conduct that tends to bring the Senate into dishonor and disrepute".

With that history as a backdrop, Clooney drew on his first-hand experience in the newsroom (his father was news anchor) to produce an incredible film. If listening to one of Murrow’s understated responses to McCarthy’s tyrannous crusade doesn’t make your skin tingle, I really don’t know what will. This was the essence of free speech and it was using a new medium (television) as the conduit-a medium most people didn’t understand had the capability of serving such a role. This was the internet, video/satellite phone of the age and the possibilities were just surfacing.

Plus, it was cool how they used so much actual footage, but the transfers were smooth because the film wasn’t in color. You watch as David Straitham (playing Murrow) views a video screen showing an actual McCarthy clip. It’s seamless and convincing. Seriously.

But beyond the story and the acting, I loved the way the movie looked and felt. A simple elegance pervaded throughout that found its expression in unique ways. To attribute this simply to the film being black-and-white doesn’t do it any justice. Many of the scenes involved a single camera panning around a room, tracing the development of a conversation. It was cool because it was crude but it wasn’t dizzying; you felt like you were sitting in the room. Another technique I liked was how many close shots of the face they used. Black and white has this amazing capability of capturing skin creases and eye communication. And skin creases were found aplenty! I’m sure this has something to do with the fact that everyone smoked like frickin’ chimneys (Mr. Murrow, apparently, outsmoked even the most assiduously dedicated, which was evidenced best by his untimely lung cancer demise). The scene interludes used a single woman, with background instruments, crooning out different songs (depending upon the transition). Again, simple and elegant.

I loved this film for all this and more. Go see it and try to convince me that Murrow’s speech from 1958 couldn’t be more relevant on November 10, 2005. If you succeed, I’ll buy you some popcorn and rejoice that we’ve come farther than I thought.

I plead the Fifth

In honor of my friend Neeraj’s ridiculous claim that Columbus, OH is the world’s 5th-repeat 5th-best city, I’ve decided to use his ranking system to explore 5 other 5th placers:

World’s 5th best food: soggy asparagus
World’s 5th best social event: Rock Creek Convalescent Home’s Saturday morning yoga
World’s 5th best hairstyle: this
World’s 5th best job: my job
World’s 5th cleanest drinking water: The River Thames (phil did not find this originally, he definitely did not even come close to finding this originally and for him to pretend that he did was wrong in atleast 7 different ways and forever banished him from the good graces of 3 major religions)

Brilliant!

Once in awhile, a commercial comes around that’s so cool it hurts. You know, the kind where you gaze at the screen on the verge of tears because you didn’t have any part in its creation. I would rank this Guinness commercial among that rare breed (those from Kansas might disagree). I thought the Ice Age was especially sweet.

Breakfast

Serpentine stare of sepulchral shrew searing my supine soul’s stuttering stalemate. Simple, soiled suggestions sent by sanctimonious spearmint. Sally forth, sally forth.

An onion bagel.

E-Waste away, far away

I listened to an interesting symposium at the Academies today addressing the problem of E-Waste. For those not familiar with the term, E-Waste (EW) refers to the unused refuse that remains after electronics (computers, televisions, I-Pods, cellphones, etc.) fizzle out and meet their makers’ landfills. Among the surfeit of dangerous metals and hazardous materials contained in old electronics are the following: cadmium, lead, mercury, chromium IV (known to damage DNA, linked to asthmatic bronchitis), and brominated flame retardants (endocrine disrupters, increase cancer risks to digestive and lymph systems).

Two different speakers offered strikingly different input on the problem. In short, the first speaker, Ted Smith, spoke mainly about the Precautionary Principle which he thinks should drive the electronic industry’s mounting problem of waste disposal. In relation to this discussion, the theory says that when there’s not ample evidence to show that EW doesn’t harm those who participate in its disposal-or those located in close proximity to its disposal-then the burden falls upon the manufacturer of those supplies to ensure that all precautions are taken for safe disposal. This implies that the electronic companies of the world need to deal with their own waste using their own funds. Right now, with no regulation of the disposal whatsoever, the waste is either treated like any other type of regular waste and thrown in a landfill, or its shipped overseas. What’s shipped overseas ends up in huge piles of rubbish that are burned to melt away plastic and leave the underlying copper, etc. Imagine the toxicity of those fumes.

The second speaker, Gordon Davy, took the unpopular, and unconvincing (in my opinion) position that definitive proof of EW’s detrimental effects on human health have yet to surface. Therefore, considering EW accounts for only 1% of total US refuse each year, Davy argues perhaps our attentions should be focused elsewhere. His arguments largely rested upon claims that the dangerous chemicals contained in this waste don’t leach into the aquifers and water sources once they’re buried. He took the tack of insinuating-rather bluntly-that special interest groups have channeled their energies and pocketbooks into making EW more of an issue than it deserves.

To be frank, although I think his demand for better research is important, I found his overall tone of dismissal almost insulting. For one thing, even if we grant him his assumption that only 1% of the US’s total refuse can be attributed to EW, that totally ignores the 50-80% of our EW that’s shipped overseas to places like China, India, Pakistan, and Nigeria. We’re producing enormous amounts of EW, but most of it doesn’t end up buried in the US. Even more importantly, however, the amount of EW’s increasing ever year on an enormous scale (according to the other speaker, whose statement was not argued by Mr. Davy, EW is easily the fastest growing source of refuse in the US). The computer-age really only blossomed within the previous generation and many of those computers are becoming obsolete. Plus, technological development continues to race forward and there’s more and more techy stuff on the shelves-that’s not going to slow anytime soon. All of this is either dead or dying. Do we burn it, bury it, or donate the organs? Damn it feels good to be a gangsta…

Mr. Davy concludes that EW should be disposed of in landfills without pumping revenue into an EW recycling infrastructure. In his opinion, it’s a fairly simple cost-analysis equation: we’d have to pump millions or billions of dollars into a recycling program that simply wouldn’t pay for itself in the end. Furthermore, in his mind, the detrimental impacts have yet to be proven beyond a reasonable doubt, so why spend so much money?

He’s right to say that recycling EW costs ridiculous amounts of money in the US right now (up to $25 per computer unit sometimes). However, the main reason for this is that freight ships roll in from China stacked with supplies and have tons of room in their holding containers for the return trip. We have no regulations in place dictating whether or not our EW remnants can be shipped overseas, so why not pay a few bucks and load up a crate? Your problem’s history! Therefore, it actually costs less to ship the waste overseas and have it disposed over there than it is to do the job in the US. Also, engineers and companies have no incentives awaiting them should they devise a more economical approach to recycling EW here in the states. Finally, maybe we don’t have definitive proof right now that EW causes serious health concerns, but guess what, these ills take decades sometimes to reveal themselves! The components are abnormally toxic and it’s only a matter of time before we see those effects.

Although I liked the essence of Ted Smith’s remarks infinitely more than those of Mr. Davy, I disagree with Mr. Smith to some extent regarding the burden of disposal. I think the federal government needs to acknowledge the grave dangers involved in leaving this industry unregulated and should offer its economic and managerial might in establishing the underpinnings of an EW recycling system. We can’t continue to ship this crap overseas to China, turn a blind eye on its disposal, then turn around and criticize them for their revolting treatment of the environment. Also, it’s not right to put ALL the burden of disposal on the companies because that doesn’t match up with practices in other industries and the cost of establishing a reasonable recycling (research, infrastructure, workforce) might even sink some companies who make these computers and cell phones were using (probably not, but repercussions would be felt, and they’d trickle down to you and me eventually).

Therefore, I’d hope we can achieve a joint program between the federal government (some states have already imposed their own restrictions) and electronic manufacturers that awards innovative treatment of EW, but doesn’t saddle the industry with all the responsibility. I think the responsibility should be shared between those who make and those who use. Guess what, you and I use and we should probably dedicate some of our taxes to preserving the environment were endangering.

Sports: the real barometer

Somebody explain this to me: North and South Korea have forged a pact to compete as one team in the 2006 Asian Games and the 2008 Olympics in Beijing. I mean, the Demilitarized Zone separating the two countries might constitute one of the tensest regions in the world, where the threat of war-possibly nuclear war-casts a perpetual shadow. Maybe Kim Jong Il and his totalitarian dictatorship continue to starve their own people while adhering to the faltering and ideologically driven tenets of a Marxism/Leninism run awry. But hey, let’s think about what really matters here: medal counts.

In all seriousness, I’m excited about this small, but notable development in the relations between North and South. Not only would a thaw in those tensions serve the international community as a whole, but the more attention drawn to the situation in North Korea the better. It gets us one step closer to feeding starving mouths and reuniting families that haven’t seen each other in half a century. I think this political decision, channeled through the guise of athletics, will do less to legitimize the impotent, but dangerous, rule in the North and more to draw that stagnating region back into the international community. I don’t think we need to worry about justice coming to those who begged its swift hand; that will happen when the people in the North are empowered by their own revelations. Therefore, although it struck me as incomprehensible and conciliatory at first, I now see this as a calculated (correctly calculated, in my opinion) move to achieve the ultimate goal of democratic unity.

Also, China better rethink their Table Tennis odds when they’re playing at home in 2008.

A conversation

Blog: Phil, this is embarrassing. Your entries lately are less substantive than Harriet Miers and about as consistent as your jump-shot.

Phil: Yeah, well I’ve been traveling a bit lately without a computer and feel kinda enervated as far as writing.

Blog: Look, I’ve got an image to uphold here and if you’re gonna be the one dressing me I’ll be damned if you’re shopping at JC Penney’s. I’m talking Vera Wang and you’re giving Sketchers...this isn’t gonna work.

Phil: I don’t get it.

Blog: You wouldn’t.

Phil: Man, maybe I should just throw in the towel here.

Blog: I know I didn't hear that.

Phil’s Imagination: Wait! This blog is acting as a conduit, reversing roles and allowing my adoring readers to speak to me this time. What’s that?....Uh huh!....Of course! They’re telling me my words are like the first waft of coffee’s sweet aroma on a dull, grey morning; they’re telling me what’s typed on this page builds mountains, cures diseases, and mobilizes armies; they’re saying utter bedlam threatens should my voice not quell the upsurging masses with words of enlightenment and direction. By God, I must write! I must! If only to save civilization as we now know it….

Blog: Did you say something?

Phil: Nah. Look, I’ll come up with something, alright?

Blog: Hurry up.

Phil: Shut up.

Blog: You shut up.

[Stay tuned for the next installment…]

Dance of the dead

Since I don't seem to have anything more interesting to offer lately besides entertaining/nauseating little video clips, here's another choice selection to help you celebrate Halloween in style. This guy's really pretty good.

No hollerin' back here

Rarely can 3 minutes and 35 seconds teach us crucial lessons about ourselves and those from other cultural backgrounds, but a highly educational and nuanced video entitled "Curry-n-rice girl" manages to do just that. Watch and marvel as Ludakrishna and Vikram MC poetically encapsulate the complex feelings of familial allegiance and personal quests for fulfillment.

Why would anyone ever need to introduce me to this?

This is SOOOOOO freaky. As it was presented to me:

This is spooky. Read the information below before viewing the clip.
Strange but interesting. This is a car advertisement from Great Britain.
When they finished filming the ad, the film editor noticed something moving along the side of the car, like a ghostly white mist. They found out that a person had been killed a year earlier in that exact same spot.

The ad was never put on TV because of the unexplained ghostly phenomenon. Watch the front end of the car as it clears the trees in the middle of the screen and you'll see the white mist crossing in front of the car then following it along the road....Spooky!

Is it a ghost, or is it simply mist? You decide. If you have the sound up a little, you'll even hear the cameraman whispering in the background about it near the end of the commercial.

Now go check out the commercial HERE. Look close, because the resolution is a bit hazy and listen for the bewildered cameraman.

Electronic Pumpkin Carving

This is way too cool to pass up. I carved the Hagia Sophia.

A public service announcement from way out...

What do you tell someone when they ask you what you're doing next Tuesday evening, October 25th? Obviously, you tell them that you're heading over to NW 17th in DC (which might require a rather lengthy flight for some) and checking out the Drag Queen Races. Come watch as I parade others parade their flamboyant glamour for the world to see followed by a mad-dash down 17th. It's a great way to get inspired to exercise during the cold, grey winter months by observing the finest examples of she-male physique. See the 'other' you there.

Truth be told?

In Salman Rushdie's latest work, Shalimar the Clown, Rushdie forwards a theory-that's probably already popular in some circles-regarding JFK's assassination through one of the characters in the book:

The date is 1965. The place is India. A Kashmiri beauty seduces the recently appointed US ambassador to India, Max Ophuls, with her entrancing dance at a festival honoring the diplomat's visit north. As with all Ophuls' lustful conquests, he turns to his loyal assistant, Beaver Wood, to organize an opportunity for Max and Boonyi (the dancer) to, ummmm, 'meet'. Beaver replies with an unexpected question and comment:

"Do you have a bad back?.....because too much sex and a bad back is what got the president assassinated".

Through Wood, Rushdie continues:

"The truss, sir," Wood explained. "Kennedy's back was bad to begin with, but it got so much worse because of all the screwing around that he had to wear the truss all the time. He was wearing it in Dallas and that's why he didn't fall over after the first shot hit him. he was wounded and lurched over and the truss just sat him up again, boing, and then the second bullet blew off the back of his head. You see what i'm saying, Professor, maybe if he'd had less sex, he maybe wouldn't have been wearing the truss, and then no boing, he'd just have fallen flat after being wounded; the first bullet wasn't fatal, remember, and he wouldn't have been as they say available for the second shot, and Johnson wouldn't be president. There's a moral in there somewhere, I guess, but as you don't have a bad back, Professor, it doesn't apply to you."

Did promiscuity kill Kennedy? Does anyone with a bad back understand the moral here?

Is this common knowledge?

1. Go to Google's homepage
2. Type in "Failure"
3. Perform a web-search
4. Check out what Google spits out as the first result
   

ganGREnous test issued vital medicine

First of all, if you’re just tuning back in, go check out my photos from Europe (but don’t use the “view as slideshow” option…make me feel like you care what I have to say and read my captions under the photos).

Now to the point: a year from this month, in October 2006, the Graduate Record Exam (GRE)-that purported barometer of how students will perform in graduate school-will undergo a major facelift. According to the Times' interview with the executive director of the GRE program,

On the new exams, the verbal reasoning section will consist of two 40-minute sections rather than one 30-minute section, and will place less emphasis on vocabulary and more on higher cognitive skills...The quantitative reasoning section will grow from one 45-minute section to two 40-minute sections, with fewer geometry questions and more on interpreting tables and graphs. And the analytical writing measure, which had a 45-minute essay and a 30-minute essay, will now have two 30-minute essays.

I openly embrace these changes. Although this remark will surely inspire many grumbles, I think the test needs to be longer. When you’re only given 30 minutes to prove your adeptness in verbal reasoning and 45 in quantitative pursuits, it seems a trip or a slip could really damage your score. By increasing the number of questions, the severity of such slips diminishes and a greater understanding of the student’s abilities surfaces.

I can personally attest to this because I took the GRE at the end of September when a virtual avalanche of both personal and professional pressures amounted. After running from work to the testing center, I mistakenly thought myself at peace and prepared to test. Near the end of the initial writing section, and especially in the following quantitative part, the pressures I’d warded off for a few minutes came barreling back. A crippling anxiety attack ensued that literally paralyzed me mentally. I only bring it up here because I find it pertinent to my argument. The time constriction and tiny opportunity to prove my abilities intensified the pressures once they surfaced and magnified what should have been a brief period of anxiety into something devastating; there was no time to recover. The new GRE formula promises that such crises could be averted by promising students ample opportunity to amend a 5-minute mental lapse. By no means do I consider myself alone in facing these exterior burdens when testing; therefore, I think many others would support an extension of the GRE’s breadth, as well. Although the GRE by no means constitutes the only, or even the most important criteria (and, it shouldn’t) upon which graduate schools will measure a student, it nevertheless does bear some importance. Therefore, students should have adequate opportunity to demonstrate their abilities [ps. I took the test the following week after a breath of fresh air and the differences between the two testing sessions was night and day-if this happens to anyone else inane enough to schedule under such circumstances, don’t worry, just take it again].

Aside from the length, the nature of the questions needs attention. I transformed into a lab rat and took ETS's experimental verbal section after concluding my test and found the questions much more meaningful. As mentioned above, the present questions emphasize vocabulary WAY too much and often preclude test-takers from utilizing enough critical thinking to effectively reason towards a solution if they don't know the definition of some esoteric word. This should be about thinking and comprehending, not memorizing vocabulary. Don't get me wrong, I love words and often find more interesting words capable of conveying more interesting thoughts. But that's certainly not always true and a big words don't necessarily make you smart. ETS way overexaggerates their import. The newer questions address that point effectively, in my opinion.

Another welcome change is ETS’s decision to dispose of “computer adaptive” testing. In essence, if you answer a question correctly, the computer spits out a more difficult question the next time. If you answer incorrectly, the computer gives an ‘easier’ follow-up question. According to ETS’s philosophy, the computer eventually narrows in on your skill in a particular subject through this trial and error approach.

This presents a number of problems, however. First of all, you could easily find yourself caught in a maelstrom of analysis with the appearance of each subsequent question as you tried to gauge whether it seemed more difficult than the previous question. Considering the inherent pressure already weighing on test takers, this additional psychological burden could easily distract beyond acceptable limits, further compromising the validity of the final score. Furthermore, it removes any nagging arbitrariness in determining the ‘difficulty’ of a particular question. I mean, maybe you got the preceding question wrong and, hence, received an ‘easier’ follow-up question, but who decides whether that follow-up question is really any easier after all? I mean, if your percentage reflects how you tested compared to everyone else, shouldn’t you all answer the same questions?

Finally, out of roughly 30 questions in a section, the initial 10 weigh much heavier in determining your final score because the following 20 questions only serve to refine an already grossly defined score. In other words, mess up on a couple questions early, and your score might not reflect your true abilities. So, for all these reasons, good riddance “computer adaptive” testing.

I also like that “every question on the new exams will be used only once, and the test will start at different times in different time zones, so students who have finished cannot pass on questions to those in different zones.” It was glaringly obvious that if you were fanatical about raising your scores ten or twenty points (maybe even more), you could easily drill friends or find a website chalked full of probable questions.

In long-awaited conclusion, if they’re going to insist on an entrance exam, then why not make it more meaningful. I fully support the revisions planned by ETS to broaden the scope of the GRE and revise the nature of the material.

Ever a vile purpose

Just to clarify for all those who suffered the unenviable fate of looking at my previously posted Euro-fotos without the joys of my narrative, you probably chose the "View as slideshow" option on the Flickr page. As pointed out by elder-brother Long from his mountain sanctuary, that option is evil and professes a dark, barbaric faith that only results in your soul's gangrenous rotting. Please swear an oath this day that you shall never use the "View as slideshow" option again while you tread the dirt of this earth.

10 digital days

Pictures of France, Switzerland, Italy and tales of heroic victory over dastardly designs can all be found RIGHT HERE if you have the courage to look.
Unless you understandably hate my dialogue and wish it silenced, DON'T use the "view as slideshow" option. Instead, just click on the first picture and proceed from there.

Three thoughts

1. Not all European trains are created equal
2. I speak too much English and too little everything else
3. Christmas gluttony makes so much more sense now

field trip

Guess where I'm going...answer.
Guess where else I'm going...who's a genius?
Guess where I'm passing through...nice.
Guess if this is the last question, then guess where else i'm passing through....juicy.

Now i know how much this pains everyone to hear, but alas, I shan't be updating my blog all that often in the next 10 days. I'll try to drop a quick story from some overpriced internet cafe now and then, so keep checking every hour, on the hour.

cheers.

Don't read if you don't want to hear about A History of Violence!

It would be nearly impossible to walk away from David Cronenberg’s compelling new movie A History of Violence without an immediate, visceral reaction. Mine (shocker) was one of disquietude. As the title clearly suggests, the movie pivots around the saga of an ex-crime family thug from Philadelphia (Viggo Mortensen) to explore the ubiquity of violence. Not content to focus exclusively on-although by no means neglectful of-traditional physical violence, Cronenberg incorporates sexual, psychological, and spiritual brutality in this film that never fails to disturb.

Rarely in popular film has such graphic violence persisted throughout a movie, and almost never has the sense of glamorization or dramatization been stripped away to offer a raw glimpse of the aftermath. Music and background noise either disappear or diminish to imperceptibility while the camera unflinchingly captures a bloodied human head with half the jaw utterly torn away compliments of a shotgun. You see maniacal looks, punishing sex, and rampant bloodshed. It’s cold, it’s gruesome, and it’s realistic.

But this wasn’t the kind of violence that made you want to play hero or take a quaff of the tantalizing criminal hedonism. This movie repelled and sobered you, and made you want to vomit. It made you want to call your family just to check in. It made you feel vulnerable, and it made you see others as vulnerable.

Although based on a graphic novel, a genre that always includes elements of exaggeration, the movie verges too close to reality-albeit a distorted, tormented reality-for the viewer to dismiss it as irrelevant. Instead, it’s the underlying truth of the work and revelation of human complexity that makes this film surpass such forgettable caricature.

Many whom I've spoken to since watching the movie found the violence gratuitous. I have to respectfully disagree, however, because I think this violence-all of it-served a point. It reminds us that while we’re capable of creating works of profound beauty, we’re also capable of haunting destruction. The juxtaposition of such antithetical traits, and the denial of a simpler, less convincing reality, makes the film work. In my opinion, instead of neglecting such troubling possibilities, we need films like this to agitate us into maintaining an enlightened sense of humanity.

Aim for the stars, man, but c'mon!

Continuing the theme of the week, which vaguely entails animals acting in strikingly anthromophic ways (weapon-happy/vengeful/idiotic), here's a couple choice excerpts from the latest find:

A 13-foot Burmese python recently burst after it apparently tried to swallow a live, six-foot alligator whole, authorities said.
The incident has heightened biologists' fears that the nonnative snakes could threaten a host of other animal species in the Everglades....

...The snake was found with the gator's hindquarters protruding from its midsection. Mazzotti said the alligator may have clawed at the python's stomach as the snake tried to digest it.
In previous incidents, the alligator won or the battle was an apparent draw.

An alligator, it swallowed a six-foot long alligator...that was alive! I think natural selection is having its way one moronic python at a time.

Maybe it happened, maybe it didn't....

...your call:

STOCKHOLM (Reuters) - A Swedish hunter was knocked unconscious after his son shot a flying Canadian goose which then fell onto his head, news agency TT reported Wednesday.

"I guess it wanted revenge," hunter Ulf Ilback told local newspaper Extra Ostergotland, according to TT.

Ilback said he had to stay in bed for two days after being knocked out by the goose, which fell from around 60 feet. The birds can weigh up 13 pounds.

Escalating excitement for everybody

I had an interesting talk with my roommate, Atif, last night about the merits of escalator systems. Atif, a worldly gentleman with an acute interest in urban development, described to me how the Public Transportation system in Kiev, Ukraine contains no such escalators and, instead, utilizes an extended ramp system to facilitate subway riders issuing forth from the train platform to sunlight and vice versa. From the sounds of it, however, the subway trains run essentially directly below the ground. Therefore, although the idea of conserving electricity, encouraging exercise, and simplifying the aesthetic tantalizes the imagination, it simply isn’t practical in every metropolitan area.

DC constitutes one such area where subways cannot always run directly below the ground. Due to gentle, but consistent elevation changes, a meandering creek bed with a steep, deep drop, and the depth of stable ground at some locations, DC’s metro boasts some of the longest escalators in the world. In particular, the Wheaton Metro on DC’s Red Line hosts the longest escalator in the Western Hemisphere at a length of 230 feet (the Forest Glen station, just preceding the Wheaton station, is actually deeper at 196 feet, but the only access in and out is via elevator).

Which leads me to my next point: why didn’t anybody tell me about the escalator system in Hong Kong. Jerks. For the unschooled riff-raff like myself, Hong Kong boasts the world’s longest outdoor escalator system in the world. The escalator system provides such essential transportation for Hong Kong’s commuting masses, that they treat it like an expressway in the United States (think Seattle). In the morning, the escalators operate only downhill for the workers to descend to the business districts, and then operate from 10am until midnight only uphill. This escalator system, christened the Mid-Levels Escalator, consists of 20 escalators and 3 moving sidewalks. It is 800 meters long, and climbs 135 vertical meters. If you were the typical American and let the escalator do all the work, total travel time takes 20 minutes.

I just gotta know, has anybody ever run the entire 800 meters upward against the down escalators? Epic.

Austin Powers realized

1. Dr. Evil:

You know, I have one simple request. And that is to have sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their heads! Now evidently my cycloptic colleague informs me that that cannot be done. Ah, would you remind me what I pay you people for, honestly? Throw me a bone here!

2. Excerpt from this absurdly, stupefyingly, bewilderingly ridiculous story:

Experts who have studied the US navy's cetacean training exercises claim the 36 mammals could be carrying 'toxic dart' guns. Divers and surfers risk attack, they claim, from a species considered to be among the planet's smartest. The US navy admits it has been training dolphins for military purposes, but has refused to confirm that any are missing.

Dolphins have been trained in attack-and-kill missions since the Cold War. The US Atlantic bottlenose dolphins have apparently been taught to shoot terrorists attacking military vessels. Their coastal compound was breached during the storm, sweeping them out to sea. But those who have studied the controversial use of dolphins in the US defence programme claim it is vital they are caught quickly.

Those English people and their wild imaginations.

K-research Laboratories contributed to concocting this story.

Star Wars realized

I had no doubt it would happen in my lifetime, but I certainly didn't anticipate its immediacy (sort of). Nieman Marcus decided to advertize the first 'skycar' available to anyone interested and capable of paying the modest $3.5 million price tag. A couple catches, ummmmm, first of all it costs $3.5 million. Secondly, word has it only 1 successful test flight has been completed heretofore, so these machines haven't exactly proven their mettle. Finally, they're only really selling purchasing agreements right now; it could take up to three years for the first models to actually ship.

All that practical crap aside, this will definitely be Numero Uno on the Christmas list for 2005. I never did get my Imperial Speeder Bike, so I don't think this oversteps suitable remuneration for past wrongs. Please include leather seats and galactic radio, thanks.

Of note

Right now, in Alaska, a statewide manhunt is underway to catch Robert "Papa Pilgrim" Hale. Papa Pilgrim, the locally famous patriarch of the 17-member Hale clan, has fled in a camper van from 30 charges including sexual assualt, kidnapping, coercion, and incest. The Anchorage Daily News had this to report:

The 17-member family, bound by strict rules that Hale drew from his reading of the Bible, broke apart last winter after a single, horrific episode, described by troopers this week. They said Hale locked a daughter in a small shack on family property near the Kennicott River in McCarthy and raped her repeatedly. Some other family members knew she was in there, heard suspicious sounds and were concerned, troopers said.

It's hard to imagine this stuff even happens these days. Luckily, the chances of Hale escaping unnoticed before winter bears down is almost nonexistent (you try escaping with an 18-inch beard, pilgrim hat, and camper truck). If he tries to hold out past that point, I'm guessing mother nature will apply final justice.

Also, I would give most things to be in San Francisco right now to check out this urban ski-jump of all urban ski-jumps. Unfortunately, my friend Tyson still hates America, so I don't know if his brother Tanner's taking part or not (of note, of note, I was in Manhattan for that road race last weekend, but the man made me work right through it...here's the results showing Alan Webb in 2nd behind Craig Mottram).

Late, not never

Life's been a maelstrom lately and i'm rowing a splintered canoe. So in tardy fashion, as promised earlier, here's some files with a whole bunch of tiny little colored dots arranged in intelligible order to reproduce images I saw. I decided to leave my camera at home when i walked over half the length of the island, which meant I missed some great shots. Most notably, there was a troupe of Capoeira fighters/dancers that put on the most spectacular show. I was introduced to this Brazilian art in DC awhile back and remain fascinated at how demanding Capoeira is in terms of agility, strength, and elegance. So just pretend that I included this.

The wrath of the escalator

The escalator at one of the Metro stops in Virginia decided to devour my friend Taryn's shoe a couple weeks ago. This is the aftermath of the devastation. Although the shoe met it's brutal demise, the foot arose unscathed. Logic would direct most criticism towards the design of the escalator, I, however, decided to blame Virginia and call it good.

B,b,b,b,b,b,baby got back

Alas, my spitefully dedicated readers, but the fatuous words must go on. I apologize for the echoing silence here the last couple days, I was in New York and couldn’t manage to obtain internet access in one of the most wired cities on earth. Go me!

There’s a lot I’d like to say, but life’s insane right now…plus, brevity’s the soul of wit (hence, I will now commence my exegesis). The days were mostly work with little play. I did check out the progression at the Trade Center complex and walk from Wall street up to the bottom of Central Park, over to the Hudson, and back to Times Square. We’re not talking about trivial distances here. If you’re in the Chelsea neighborhood, the Greek Kitchen is a great little restaurant.

I’m also here to proudly claim that in a city teeming with world-class museums, I managed to visit their paragon of high culture: The Museum of Sex (Mosex). If you’re thinking Strip Clubs and porn flicks, I wouldn’t bother wasting the 15 bucks for admission. You might as well stay home and hunt around on the internet. If, however, you’re interested in exploring the historical context of modern sexuality, pornography, and sex education I’d highly recommend dropping by. The curators obviously paid close attention to how their exhibits might be interpreted, because although they dealt with material easily susceptible to crassness and shallowness, they managed to maintain a sophisticated and sensitive treatment.

That does not, however, imply that they hide anything. Noooooooooooooo, trust me. You’ll see your fair share of bawdy movies, candid interviews, and exotic contraptions. I found it refreshing to openly learn about a universal, yet often cloaked, human drive. Go check it out.

On a side note, the gallery entitled “Men Without Suits: Objectifying the American Male Nude Body” made me think about gyms. I think the modern gym would be one of the most fascinating developments of our modern world for a time traveler from the past to see. The whole idea is kind of space age in its own way…people running in place in stale, white rooms while lined up right next to each other with their headphones on. Although never receiving a second thought, those modern gyms didn’t really become normal until the 20th century.

Alright I’m done rambling. Flickr’s “is having a massage” right now, so I’ll post a few pics later.

Devastating and Serious

Here's a couple notes of interest:

Devastating: A Louisiana scientist working on one of my committees at the Academies forwarded this unbelievable graph our way. As you can see, an absurdly indestructable buoy managed to weather the onslaught of Hurricane Katrina's eye and record the storm surge at the mouth of the Biloxi River, where it feeds into Mississippi Sound.The blurb on the master copy that doesn't show up on this image is the following: "One surviving gauge measured the whole storm, a little inland on the Biloxi River.....a 25-ft wall of water. This might be the first measurement of such a surge ever. “Incredible”." Although a crippling surge has been discussed exhaustively in the wake of the hurricane, for me, seeing this rare and horrific documentation kind of pounds the point home. They essentially dealt with a tsunami, on top of a hurricane.


So as not to make light of the situation along the Gulf Coast in any way, I'll label this second element as only 'Serious'. DCist just reported that Dr. Dremo's Bar in Arlington-that bastion of high culture and sophistication-will no longer host Beer Pong on their premises (Scroll down on that link and check-out some interesting reader input). Apparently, the Virginia Department of Alcoholic Beverages Control found Dremo's guilty of violating statutes under their purview. As you can see in DCist's post, some aren't totally convinced this is true. Anybody have any legal insight into this tragedy? Also, call me ignorant, but isn't that beer pong game pictured on DCist absolutely ridiculous. 36 cups?!

Arrested attention

Arrested Development launched its third season tonight. I'll repeat what i've preached since becoming a relatively late convert to the show last spring: nothing else on cable rivals this for comedy. I should qualify that statement by conceding that i don't watch a whole bunch of television, but try to atleast get a feel for what's out there. So, I'm begging you, if there's a show airing that you think ranks with or above Arrested Development for humor, please, for the love of the deities, tell me about it.

Lots of juicy new twists and turns surfaced in this season's inaugural episode, maybe the most notable being that Oscar has his own blog. Here's a wonderful excerpt:

When I woke up in the infirmary, I was surprised to find out that my stabber was the leader of an equal rights gang called: RAVIOLI or Rapists Against Violence Against Insects. When I went to apologize for killing the ants, I pointed out that ravioli doesn’t work as an acronym and they stabbed me again.

"Shouts and Murders"...are you kidding me! Brilliant. Basically everything on the show was funny, minus a creepy shot of George Sr. as an awakening Blue Man. Actually, that was funny too.

Darfur, Revisited

Nicholas Kristof contributed a poignant article in Sunday’s New York Times addressing the Bush Administrations response to Darfur’s genocide. I like this article for a couple reasons. First of all, Kristof takes a bold, unequivocal stand against the Bush Administration’s insufficient response to the inhumanity still unfolding in Darfur. I think it’s important that a respected journalist writing for the most prominent publication in the nation, if not the world, voices such strong discontent obviously charged by real emotion. Erudition and academic-laced writing has it’s important place in those op-ed pages; however, it’s refreshing to hear plainspoken talk when somebody’s deservedly pissed off about something of utmost importance. I applaud Kristof for being relentless in has outspoken stand against the administration’s tepid involvement.

Also, Brian Steidle, the former Marine Captain mentioned in the article, participated in a panel discussion I attended at the end of August. Although accompanied by prestigious and war-hardened fellow panelists, Steidle’s gruesome pictures constituted the most compelling testimony offered that night. As Kristof describes Steidle’s pictures in this article, they show “men, women and children hacked to death. Other photos were too wrenching to publish: one showed a pupil at the Suleia Girls School; she appeared to have been burned alive, probably after being raped, and her charred arms were still in handcuffs.”

Regardless of the political repercussions and the delicate policy balance involved in antagonizing Sudanese officials by disseminating these photos, testimony like this should never be quelled. Instead, these heart-wrenching photos should be broadcast on all the major television stations, daily newspapers, and prominent websites throughout the world. We’ve had enough whitewashing, now it’s time to face the gruesome reality of human beings slaughtering other human beings with machetes.

What’s most dumbfounding to me is the fact that Steidle adamantly stressed that the United States government had surpassed most others in the world with their response to Darfur. Although not satisfied with the extent of US involvement, he unambiguously praised the few steps taken, especially a year ago when Bush explicitly characterized Darfur as a ‘genocide’. In return, Steidle’s been “blacklisted from all U.S. government jobs.” Something doesn’t add up.

I’m glad Kristof’s continuing to sound his note of discontent and I’m glad he’s doing it in a genuine and moving manner. (Thanks to K-Research Labs for vital input)

Say it like you mean it

DJEZI, a jockeyer o' disks originally from DC, concocted a tune with the help of Public Enemy, Grandmaster Flash, and the Furious 5 cuts that features an interview with New Olreans' Mayor Ray Nagin subsequent to hurricane katrina. it's pretty cool, have a listen from his website (press "MP3 download whole song, hi-fi" under the title "Sugar Ray Nagin"). This luscious find now based in Orlando just released his second album, Day-maybe my favorite listen at this very second....and this very second. To hear more tracks and an interview, PLACE CURSOR HERE AND CLICK OVER AND OVER AGAIN (if link annoys you like it did me, download from here by pressing "play" after Trampoline House Podcast #3 - djezi presents Day.

You can't run away (from problems) on a treadmill

Although you’re more likely to encounter most of the animals in the Anchorage zoo while cross-country skiing down one of the city’s urban trails, a few key exceptions to this rule reside in those pens. Most notably, the zoo has remained defiant through much controversy and maintained their 23 year old African elephant, Maggie.

This decision sickens me for all the reasons it sickens everyone else.

I arrived in Anchorage in the middle of January-halfway through their winter. By the time the ice and snow retreated enough to spend a considerable amount of time outside without warm clothes and equipment, I was getting stir crazy. That occurred in May. I’m not kidding, it was May. Relative to much of Alaska, Anchorage lies to the south and experiences the mellowing influences of coastal weather. However, let’s underscore the fact that it gets brutally cold up there and legitimate winter weather spans roughly six months (according to my sister and brother-in-law who live up there, it’s been pouring rain and hovering in the 40’s and 50’s for weeks now…it’s only September). Regarding my struggles with the weather, I wasn’t exactly living in the tropics, or even California, prior to moving there. So, although the climate shift proved substantial, it wasn’t as significant as might be experienced by someone or something moving from, ohhhh, let’s say the Sahara.

But guess what? Maggie belongs in the Sahara. Her genes didn’t arm her with the defenses necessary to combat harsh temperatures, cold winds, snow and sleet. Nor does any of the vegetation she’s used to stand a chance of growing up there.

Furthermore, as mentioned in the article, elephants herd together. Maggie, however, had one companion up until 1997 and has since spent her days among alone or among humans. Not only would this significantly alter her natural behavior (which constitutes one of the fundamental reasons for building zoos-to educate people about how animals act in the wild) but probably inflicts psychological distress in the form of loneliness and depression.

I write about this today because the zoo announced they purchased parts to construct a 16,000 pound treadmill upon which Maggie can exercise during the protracted northern winters. This extravagant gesture will do little to quell the storm of controversy surrounding the zoo’s decision to house and keep Maggie. Instead, it seems this costly and untested device serves to buy the zoo more time while they persist in mistreating this natural treasure for their own benefit.

Normally, I get a kick out of reading through the Oddly Enough news section because most of the wacky stories provide harmless, head-shaking anecdotes about ridiculous people. This story just pisses me off. I’m not the first to call for Maggie’s removal from the zoo, but it bothered me while I lived up there and it still does today. The Anchorage Zoo needs to acknowledge their inability to properly house this animal, regardless of the elaborate contraptions they devise. Maggie should not spend another winter in Alaska.

Life wish fulfilled, arrrr

Holy crap, it's finally here again! Mark yerrr calendars maties, fer the nineteenth of September...that's a Monday for ye leperous scalawags that don't know...is TALK LIKE A PIRATE DAY. Arrrrrrrrr. Many thanks to sailor Judy fer tossin' the anchar an' pointin' out this fine treasure.

May the [fill in appropriate term] be with you

A couple years ago, my family introduced me to Belief O’Matic. It’s a 20 question quiz that attempts to prod your thoughts concerning spiritual, religious, and moral issues. Based upon your response to these questions, and the importance you assign each query, the little gnomes running through cyberspace shovel your replies into an algorithm that spits out a list of religions/philosophies to which you adhere best. Today, I decided I to revisit the gnomes.
Much to the chagrin of my grade school teachers (Sr. Jackie, especially), nothing monumental shifted in the ensuing years since I last used this tool to probe my spiritual depths. In other words, let’s just say that Secular Humanism, Unitarian Universalism, Liberal Quakers, Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants, Nontheists, and Theravada Buddhism didn’t not, not, not fit my outlook.
Try it for yourself, then run straight to the local building that houses your favored institution and convert because the Belief O’Matic reigns omnipotent and omniscient…

Shenandoah'sh sho shweet

Myself and some fellow hardened woodsmen undertook an adventure in Virginia's backyard this weekend. See how we learned this and other really important lessons about nature in my pictures collection (Switched over to my usual account).

Drawing an important, but difficult line

One of the projects I’m participating in at the National Academies seeks to determine the extent of Ecosystem impact due to fishing and make recommendations about halting or reversing the damage. This has proven an interesting and complicated topic for a number of reasons.

For one thing, the volume of our global oceans dwarfs any scale we typically discuss, which makes it incredibly difficult to gather the requisite data. The five oceans (yes, 5…in 2000 the International Hydrographic Organization denoted the Southern Ocean which surrounds Antarctica and extends to 60 degrees latitude) cover 70% of the earth’s surface and dive to depths of over 36,000 feet. That’s an unimaginably vast region to monitor. Although satellites, an international fleet of research vessels, and unmanned buoys distributed in all corners of the globe constantly process information, it’s not even close to enough.

Then there’s the problem with data we do collect. Available information focuses on a few lucrative target species that can be gauged relatively accurately. Although this data seems mostly reliable, the preponderance of the information comes from the fisheries themselves, which presents the possibility of bias (although fisheries argue somewhat convincingly that they have an invested interest in maintaining a robust stock more than anyone, hence, why would they distort numbers to increase fish abundance). Regardless, these condition of these key fish stocks are known pretty well.

The impact on subspecies, non-target peripheral species, and non-fish marine life remains largely unknown, however. This occurs in a couple ways. For instance, the enormous nets used by commercial and industrial fisheries aren’t selective about which species they sweep up. Therefore, although a trawler in Northern California might only gather fish in an area known for high rockfish concentration, that doesn’t mean the rockfish will always swim there and it doesn’t mean the rockfish will exclusively swim there. Inevitably, many undesired lifeforms meet their demise in a confused tangle of net. Some choke themselves or slit their own throats on the netting, others are eaten in the melee, still others manage to escape but leave behind a crucial fin or an eye, thus leaving them prostrate to the brutal Darwinian forces operating in the seas. Those that don’t die on the boat are thrown back in an often mortally weakened state that basically guaruntees their imminent end. All these species perish to nobody’s benefit and most of them are not accounted for.

Beyond that, although the fish might escape the net, their habitat might not. Imperiled coral reefs, mangrove forests, and sediment beds constitute just a fraction of the habitat damage inflicted by these nets. Do you really think the fish will survive without that vital protection?

Then, there’s the clutter left behind: oil, nets, boats, ropes, pulleys, aluminum cans, drums, etc. etc.

Now, consider the cascading effect of severely diminishing one top-tier predator from the oceans. Blue marlin and swordfish, for example, once thrived in the central north Pacific, but their numbers plummeted in the second half of the 20th century. This allowed the small tuna population, the prey of those larger predators, to thrive. If given sunlight, the grass will grow. Or perhaps a fish species disappears the fed off the microscopic life at the ocean’s surface. Algae thrives, maybe to the point of taking over vast areas.

So does this constitute ‘damage’ to the ocean’s ecosystem, or is this just humans playing their role in evolution and natural selection. Sure, we kill off one species, but that means something else thrives. How do we decide if we should stop or even reverse an ecosystem (given the dubious argument that it is possible) and if so, to what former point on the temporal scale will be determine the pristine, wilderness ocean? If we do condone human invasion of the seas to gather nourishment where do we establish the cut-off point for such intervention and manipulation?

I don’t count myself among those promoting a complete withdrawal from the seas. I’ve fished before and I will happily fish again. My personal philosophy is that humans are another type of animal that uses primarily intellectual and technical ingenuity to subsist, rather than physical ability. Either way, we still need to consume to survive, just like any other animal. In reality, the gigantic net is only an extension of the spear. The exception, of course, being that the spear doesn’t kill things it doesn’t intend to kill. I think if you fish, then you should eat what you catch. I’d say the same about hunting. Therefore, I look forward to the advent of techniques that allow targeted fish, and only targeted fish, to be caught in humane ways.

By diversifying our diets and avoiding unnecessary and inhumane kills, I think we can move closer to impacting the ecosystem less while remaining realistic about the fact that we are member-crucial members-of this global community and will invariably leave our mark. We adjust to what we know, and if more types of cuisine passed down our throat, we’d realize there’s no reason to concentrate on just a few. This ensures that no species diminishes to the point of extinction. The important thing is that the consumer ultimately drives the market. If you disagree with the harvesting of a particular type of species, don’t eat it. If you think others should do the same, offer a convincing argument defending your position. Screaming at somebody won’t do the trick.

Lest this entry turn into a novel and cheap proselytizing, somebody put a muzzle on me. I’m running away to the wilds of Virginia for the weekend, so fare ye well. (ps. i wrote this kinda fast and gotta cruise so i apologize for any glaring grammatical mistakes, missed words, etc....also, as always, i apologize for myself in general)

Baghdad files

My roommate, whom i affectionately refer to as Evander Holymaher, was recently deployed to Iraq through the department of justice. While en route from Baghdad airport to the International Zone aboard a Blackhawk helicopter, he shot some incredible video from his camera. Check out the video from a link through our buddy Jake's blog (I tried to facilitate this on my blog earlier in the week, but for a number of reasons could not carry the video without server space...which i do not have).

Oh, and Jake's blog speaks volumes for the value of this medium. Give the guy a break for his shorter, less frequent postings because he just started law school and has a library to read. Plug, plug. Plug, plug.

A DC night.

Living in DC does afford some unique opportunities. After leaving work last night, I grabbed some indian food and walked about a mile to the Supreme Court building to file past Chief Justice Rehnquist's body as he lay in repose in the Great Hall. The crowd, as far as i could analyze, consisted mostly of Hill staffers congregated and socializing in small groups. Although the crowd didn't exude rowdiness, neither did they stand in silent mourning. I think by the time I arrived, more people were attending to drink in a bit of history than to lament the death of an American giant (regardless of your political sway, you can't deny Rehnquist's stamp on the current American political and social milieu). I would count myself mostly among the former and slighly among the latter. Here's a couple more pics that might be of interest. Actually, they're not particularly exciting, I'm gonna just say that straight up. Hey, let's see you file past a dead body ringed by secret service and make it more interesting. jerks.

Chicago, where I ate for 96 hours straight

Nothing like a height ordinance at home to make you appreciate a spectacular skyline. Check out some of my other Chicago shots from last weekend.

Body Worlds-When science met art

Among the many super-duper-neato things I did over the weekend in the Windy City, I checked out the Body Worlds exhibit at the Museum of Science and Industry in South Chicago. For those not familiar with this exhibit, a little history: Gunther von Hagens finished his medical studies in West Germany in the mid-70’s after a tumultuous few years in Communist East Germany. After practicing medicine for a few years, he invented the plastination technique which enabled the cessation of body decay by replacing water and fats in a dead body with polymers. This dearth of water denied destructive microorganisms the environment they need in order to colonize and eat away at dead flesh.

Armed with this powerful ability to maintain the presentation of a body, von Hagens eventually decided to put together an exhibit exploring the wonders of the human body. Hence, Body Worlds. Educational in nature, the exhibit explores each major functioning unit in the body (muscular system, skeletal system, digestive system, nerve system, etc.) by using the bodies of donors (people bequeath their bodies upon death) dissected and segmented in various ways. Sometimes you’re looking at an isolated organ, other times your looking at a body in a running pose with all the skin stripped away to enhance the effect of muscles in motion.

Although the entire exhibit captivated my interest, von Hagens’ work with the human circulatory system has to be one of the most astounding things I’ve ever witnessed. The handlers injected a red polymer dye into the blood vessels of chosen donors until the corpses’ entire network of vessels was glutted with the solution. Once dry, this polymer hardened and maintained its shape. Next, a combination of chemicals and ultrasound dissolved the overlying tissue and bone, while leaving the polymer-filled circulatory system completely intact. When finished, a surreal 3-dimensional representation of the human form remained that showcased places where vessel networks exist and nerve ends concentrate (i.e. lips and eyelids). The example shown at left offers some idea of the beautiful resulting cast. It made you look at the human body in a whole new way.

I highly encourage anyone passing through Philadelphia (October 7-April 23, 2006) or Toronto (September 30-February 26, 2006; Body Worlds 2…it’s actually in Cleveland until September 18th) to take a couple hours and find out what cirrhosis of the liver looks like.

Respected Local Publication's Standards Plummet-DCist Post

Hello, hello, hello. I've been remiss in updating, and for that, i am one sorry dude. sorry to the point that i'm banging my head on a concrete wall, unleashing soul-piercing wails of anguish. i got some weird looks in the coffee room. Anyways, I've been gulping in the joys of Chicago and hope to post some pics later on.

In the meantime, that something i wrote a couple days ago ended up turning into the something else. Here's a link to a revised article I wrote for DCist about Sudan-oriented efforts in DC. Hopefully (for me, not the general populace), this will be the first of many contributions.

Thank you, thank you, thank you

Salman Rushdie’s first novel in years is due on the shelves next week (depending on what continent or country you’re in, it might already be there): Shalimar the Clown, gotta love it. I, for one, am ready to start tap dancing on my cubicle in elation. Rushdie’s fusion of the fantastical, the philosophical, the poignant, and the perspicacious (sorry, I’ve been wanting to use that word for awhile, and damnit, it fits) always wrings my soul dry when I read him. Easily one of my favorite authors alive today. For those interested, here’s an interesting article about the man, the myth, the pointy-eyebrowed one.

Speechless

At Least 800 Shiite Pilgrims Killed in Panic on Tigris Bridge

The news hasn't been overly uplifting the last couple days.

New Orleans, Recipe For Disaster

Darfur in DC

Here’s a summary I wrote from a Sudan program I attended last night that may, or may not, lead to something further: [New] Here's that something further...

Amid the reverent din of a standing ovation, Paul Rusesabagina-the man lionized for his heroic efforts to save over a thousand Rwandans from slaughter in the film Hotel Rwanda (2004)-took the stage last night at the National Press Club Ballroom. Within minutes, Rusesabagina's gruesome and tragic recollections from the 1994 genocide in Rwanda silenced the captivated crowd. And so began the program "Taking Action in Darfur: A Capital Alert" sponsored by the American Jewish Committee. Rusesabagina's opening comments served to draw distinct parallels between Rwanda's civil war and the tragedy currently unfolding in the Darfur region of the Sudan, both of which he has experienced first-hand.

Rusesabagina was joined by Charles Snyder, Senior Representative on the Sudan for the U.S. Department of State, and Brian Steidle, a former marine and eyewitness to the tragedy in Darfur. The panelists each offered their unique perspective concerning the crisis and responded to a slew of questions from the audience. While Snyder offered an analysis and justification for the U.S. policy in that region, Steidle's talk focused primarily on his photos of razed villages, parentless children, and mutilated bodies. Although the panelists differed somewhat in their analyses of U.S. and global intervention, they unanimously agreed that proactive engagement by more people outside the government and military is crucial for curbing the slaughter.

Luckily, the DC community hosts a number of groups undertaking this challenge. Galvanized by their shared outrage, The American Jewish Committee, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the Jewish Community Relations Council, and the Greater Washington Jewish Task Force have banded together in an interfaith effort to raise awareness and offer direct support to the imperiled people of Darfur. The result: "DC (heart) Darfur"[website available 9/2: www.ajws.org/dclovesdarfur]. This campaign emphasizes that a refugee in Darfur or neighboring Chad could attain a daily food ration for 18 cents (US). In this way, the benefit of both small and large donations becomes apparent. The campaign will continue through October 13th.

Among the other DC area groups working to ensure a return to peace in the Sudan are the Salam Sudan Foundation and The Save Darfur Coalition .

Cathartic creation

Everybody has their little secrets. Many have their big secrets. In the fall of 2004, Frank Warren decided he wanted to hear the unspeakable spoken. Warren, a successful businessman in the medical research field living in Germantown, Maryland, distributed blank postcards all around the DC area with a return address and the following instructions:

'You are invited to anonymously contribute a secret to a group art project. Your secret can be a regret, fear, betrayal, desire, confession or childhood humiliation. Be brief. Be legible. Be creative.

Not only did he get a few returns, his mailbox soon overflowed with responses. His unique, yet modest idea for inclusion in a local art exhibition has since blossomed into a project of international scope. Having surpassed 5 million hits on his website and catalogued over 3,000 postcards, this ‘accidental artist’ now spends more time on his postcard project than at his real job. For a more involved history and analysis of Warren’s work, The Guardian recently detailed this anomalous art in an article fittingly entitled ‘Secret Service’. NPR also aired a piece in March.

I think the person who introduced me encapsulated the feel of the website best: Some of them are funny, some are trite, some are artistically beautiful, and some of them you can relate to. I guess its liberating, to unburden yourself of secrets...to strangers. Why is it that we are so afraid that the people closest to us can't handle the truth? I highly recommend taking a few minutes and checking out his website because the selections are pretty moving.

The hype continues to grow as Melbourne-based composer Sasha Stella decided to create a music/theatre performance based upon the project which promises to entice along the same vein as the Vagina Monologues. On top of that, a book is in the works and a number of exhibitions have been planned.

Update from the blood-sucking leech front

The Times caught wind of my blog entry exploring the medicinal use of leeches and decided to pursue the issue further. Here's an article they published today describing how a federal board of medical advisers is currently meeting to decide how best to regulate leeches, maggots, and other repulsive, yet useful medical 'devices'. really though, i still don't like 'em. (Compliments of Kresearch laboratories)

Update from the homefront

Looks like the drama continues in my hometown of Spokane, WA. The Washington State Supreme Court ruled yesterday that a recall petition for Spokane Mayor Jim West can proceed. You may or may not remember that Mayor West stands accused of soliciting men online for sex, and offering one willing taker a City Hall internship in return for sexual gratification. Bad luck for Mayor West since this 18 year old man turned out to be a computer forensics expert aiding in a sting operation (there is some debate about the motives behind this investigation, considering it was sponsored by the Spokesman-Review who’s editorial and executive staff maintain ties with one of West’s opponents…another topic altogether).

Unfortunately, this episode seems bound to further augment the homophobia endemic to Eastern Washington/Northern Idaho. Guess what guys, not all homosexuals go around soliciting youngsters for sex in return for professional favors. In fact, oh my god he’s going to say it, perhaps the culture in Spokane maybe even contributed in the slightest way to Mr. West’s actions. I’m not talking about using power for sex; that’s another issue where Mayor West seems blatantly, and deservingly guilty. Instead, I’m talking about the need for clandestine homosexual affairs carried out under the guise of a happily married family man. While outwardly championing a strongly anti-gay agenda, Mayor West battled with his internal struggle that eventually sunk him.

Jim West committed a despicable crime by using his political might for sex. For this, he should lose his job and endure the dual ignominy of public humiliation and legal sanctions. He is, however, also a victim of backwards prejudices permeating the social and political atmosphere in that region. I’m only sorry that instead of using his visibility and political sway to encourage progressive change in Spokane, he, instead, wilted under the force of public opinion and plunged into inimical behavior. The damage reaches far beyond himself.

Addendum: Also, let it be known that councilman Joe Shogan, mentioned in the final paragraph, used to make me exercise military-style firedrills every time his son, Chris, invited me to sleep over during grade school. I still wake up occasionally in a cold sweat fumbling for the window latch. It’s your glasses case, Phil. Go back to sleep. I have no doubt this guy will wreak similar havoc upon Mr. West.

This morning

The mechanical hum started in May. It hasn’t stopped since. Those regulating fans keep the office, the restaurant, the apartment, the post office…the whole city, really, at an even 71 degrees Fahrenheit on their ever-vigilant watch. The radiating, swampy heat always pulses just outside the door, waiting to smother you in its sticky, wet embrace. Heat indexes creep towards red, your lungs burn, your eyes sting, your clothes are soaken through; you succumb to the novacaine-chill of a closed door and filtered light. It’s a sedative that makes it all go away, including the joy.

But then it changes. You step outside, ready to repeat the rehearsed steps of a hackneyed, tired dance when a soothing paralysis arrests your steps. Everything looks the same: cars and drivers shuffling along, intent walkers with headphones and newspapers, an occasional honk. But something’s changed. The leaves shimmer with a newfound vigor. The light forgives instead of burns; in fact, it’s graceful and accentuating and soft. An invisible burden and an almost imperceptible scowl dissolve into a newfound enthusiasm. The right song seems easier to find and possibilities flood your neurons. You claim your ground, understanding the fight is far from over. But you claim your ground.

This federal city has generously hosted the masses, sacrificing its streets and shops, its grasses and cafes. But now its time to reclaim a forgotten city and bid a fond farewell to the adventurers and admirers that made their way here. It’s time to relax and focus on where we are and where we’re going. It’s time for grounding and embracing and thinking and singing and relishing. The summer provides that elsewhere, but dc’s summer days are something else; something neat, but something else. Now, it’s time to step outside.

And you know what that feels like? A breath of fresh air.

Right and Wrong

You really don’t need to bother following this link because I’ve pretty much copied and pasted the entire article below:

Religious broadcaster Pat Robertson suggested on-air that American operatives assassinate Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez to stop his country from becoming "a launching pad for communist infiltration and Muslim extremism."

"We have the ability to take him out, and I think the time has come that we exercise that ability," Robertson said Monday on the Christian Broadcast Network's "The 700 Club." "We don't need another $200 billion war to get rid of one, you know, strong-arm dictator," he continued. "It's a whole lot easier to have some of the covert operatives do the job and then get it over with."

"You know, I don't know about this doctrine of assassination, but if he thinks we're trying to assassinate him, I think that we really ought to go ahead and do it," Robertson said. "It's a whole lot cheaper than starting a war ... and I don't think any oil shipments will stop."

Robertson has made controversial statements in the past. In October 2003, he suggested that the State Department be blown up with a nuclear device. He has also said that feminism encourages women to "kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians."

Pat Robertson has the right to say inflammatory things. The First Amendment affords him that right and I certainly don’t want to take it away. What scares me is that Mr. Robertson commands such a massive, obsequious audience. Listen, this religious zealot just dismissed civilized diplomacy in favor of ideological barbarism. I’m often hesitant to harangue conservative spokespersons because these issues and these people are never black and white. Nobody likes a grey scale, but that’s what we’re working with most of the time. This is different; let’s call a spade a spade. Pat Robertson fell on his own sword yesterday and Right wing America needs to realize that continuing their support for this extremist will only cost them in the long run.

Thoughts from a cubicle

The world teems with diversity, beauty, and adventure. The urban, the isolated. The tropical, the arctic. The mountains, the ocean depths. The desert, the rainforest. Russians, Salvadorians. Silicon Valley Nanotech, Barrow whaling. Bangkok, Rio de Janeiro, Jerusalem, Berlin, Shanghai, Moscow, Addis Ababa, Johannesburg, Nairobi, Tokyo, Paris, Buenos Aires, Kiev, Cairo, Mosul, Los Angeles, Sydney, London, Bombay, and on and on and on! I want to snake through the bazaars of Istanbul, swim through Vanuatu’s tropical waters, ride Japanese bullet trains, gaze upon the crystal reflection of an alpine Patagonian lake, and explore Tehran’s Persian treasures.

The Problem: All this requires money, equipment, savvy friends, visas, the end of wars, and time. Don’t get me wrong, I want all those quixotic schemes to come to fruition within my lifetime, but practicality demands careful planning, patience, and perseverance. Luckily, there’s hope for the meantime…

The truth: adventure is more a state of mind and less a plane ticket. Treasures tuck themselves away in the most unexpected, easily dismissed locales. This lesson drilled itself into my thick skull when my roommate and I drove up to rural Maryland this weekend to visit some friends. The couple who recently built their beautiful, modern retirement home on 8-acres led me out into the musty, insect-symphony night to showcase their hidden gem. Sitting there, not 30 feet from the house itself, was a cabin constructed over 150 years ago that they had used as a bucolic escape for years before building the new house. Those same sturdy planks offered protection from the elements to some family during the American Civil War! This unexpected historical find sits less than 40 miles away from my apartment in DC and I’m sure countless other rickety cottages dot the landscape around here.

Which finally brings me to the point: the stomping ground that I know and love best, the western US, cradles its own panoply of accessible rarities-especially natural rarities-many of which I’ve never thought to explore. Since nature is what the west does best, it came as no surprise when I discovered that six western states house the oldest known tree species in the world: the Bristlecone Pine (Pinus Longaeva).

It seems the Bristlecone Pine has managed to stave off competition hungry to enforce the Darwinian call for newer, stronger species by employing a number of self-protection techniques. Thriving at typical elevations between 10,000 and 11,000 feet, Bristlecones persist in circumstances other types of growth find uninhabitable. They survive on dolomite and alkaline soil layers that offer insufficient nutrients for most types of growth. Furthermore, they know how to protect themselves from each other. Loners for life, these ancient trees leave ample room between themselves, thus ensuring that lightening strikes normally only destroy small clumps of trees, instead of whole forests. Fire cannot jump the distance between trees and no ground cover serves to transfer the flames. Also, if damaged by fire, drought or storms, much of the bark and tissue that conducts water dies back, effectively reducing the nutrient load the tree must supply to tissue and balancing the result of the damage. It seems you learn a lesson or two over the course of millennia.

Mommy and daddy Bristlecone conceived the oldest known individual tree in the world, Methuselah, 4,789 years ago (it celebrated its 100th birthday when the Egyptian Pyramids were being contructed). Methuselah traveled much in its younger years but returned to the White Mountains of California to live its millennia out among relatives. Methuselah descended into a severe depression in 1964 after the US Forest Service allowed a geologist to cut down his older brother Prometheus. The geologist’s coring tool broke after passing 4,000 years and USFS decided finding out that Prometheus was 4,950 years old was more important than letting it live. USFS now strictly protects these venerable soldiers.

Moral of the story: something really interesting is probably really close.

Funny things from older sisters

City Sports

Things that normally don't happen:

• Alan Webb, the most annoying runner in the world that went out for ice cream the night before running sub-4 minute miles in high school, found a new venue to showcase his hyperdrive speed: Manhattan's 5th Avenue. Webb, who looks like a 43 year old soccer coach, will join the ranks of other running legends that partook in this newly resurrected urban dash during its glory days (1981-88). Unsatisfied with only claiming the indoor record, Alan brought his game out west to the University of Oregon in 2001 and crushed the outdoor high school mile record by blazing a 3:53.43 mile. Currently, he's living in Reston, VA and making all my excuses for being out of shape look pitiful.
  
• Fillmore Street in San Francisco will play host to a big-air ski competition on August 27th hosted by Jonny Moseley. Event coordinators plan on bringing in a meager 12,000 cubic feet of snow to create an 800 ft. course on Fillmore St. between Broadway and Greene. Those with skilzzzz will rise 20 feet above street level while gliding over 60 feet lengthwise. Ty, is Tanner doing this? Do you read my blog? Why do you hate America? (Courtesy of Blogmyers, which is currently hibernating)
  

Are you kidding me?! Maybe they'll bring the America's Cup to the Reflecting Pool.