It's a fact, it's a fact

The CIA's World Fact Book has effectively held me prisoner at different points in my life. Today, I once again collapsed under the pressure and fed my insidious addiction. Here's some interesting stuff:

• Macao became the first European settlement in the far-east when Portuguese sailors first colonized the area in the 1500’s. Today, this tiny country (actually, it’s the Macau Special Administrative Region of China) consisting of two small islands and the bottom tip of a peninsula jutting out from Southern China into the South China Sea houses the densest population concentration in the world; 449,198 people in an area 10% the size of Washington, DC. Ironically, the extremely affluent residents in Macau enjoy the second longest life expectancy in the world (82.12 yrs) behind Andorra (83.51 yrs, located between France and Spain)
• Liberia’s unemployment rate equals 85%
• Gauging by 2001 estimates, the United States consumes 19,650,000 billion barrels of oil per day, while the second and third highest consumers, the European Union and Japan, consume a collective 19,830,000 billion barrels/day. That means our consumption equals 99.09% of all those countries combined
• There are more cellular telephones registered in Hong Kong (7,241,400) than there are people (6,898,686)
• The HIV/AIDS figures in the south of Africa are staggering: 38.8% of the adult population in Swaziland (independent nation located between South Africa and Mozambique) contract the disease, 37.3% of the adults in Botswana, and 28.9% in Lesotho (tiny Kingdom completely enclosed by South Africa). The numbers go on and on in that region.
• The border between Ethiopia and Eritrea has yet to be firmly established in the wake of their 2 ½ year war that ceased in late 2000, which followed in the wake of a 30 year insurgency in Ethiopia that finally afforded Eritrea independence in 1993 (and all the coastline). Fun times in Eastern Africa.
• Canada holds the second largest proved oil reserves behind Saudi Arabia; our northern neighbor has obviously focused its concentration on Natural Gas considering it ranks 21st in proved NG reserves, yet produces more NG than any other country except Russia
• Russia is really big
• There’s an island named Jersey. That means something.

Anybody else have any choice factoids that the small, sad world reading Pop, not Soda simply must know?

It's not you, it's the one that told you

you're a comic. somebody has handed you the skeletal structure of a joke. your mission is simple: conjure up the crassest, cruelest, most disturbing thoughts rotting in the miasmic sludge of your overworked, rat-infested brain and multiply them exponentially. now, take that vile, bison-carcass plaster and splatter it all over the skeleton. cackle maniacally as you mold your hideous frankenstein with each barbaric impropriety.

we all love him. warts-oh so many warts-and all.

now you have an idea of what to expect from The Aristocrats...over and over again. scores of the funniest comics alive tackle this challenge and contribute their commentary in this recently released film. the barrage of words alone could rattle even the most impervious ears. those bold enough to transfer words into visions, however, might leave the theatre with a persistent tick and a newfound Tourrette's compusion in their speech. either way, you'll laugh really hard for the 90 preceding minutes. when you see it (and you should), you might speak of catharsis, evolving social mores, or the philosophy of comedy. I'd be happy to listen. but more importantly, i want to hear whether you found it funny, and if not, why we have different senses of humor.

Ronald Reagan Boulevard, Good Riddance/ Personal Crap

For a number of reasons, I’m moving. My wacky-wild-Koolaid-style roommate recently accepted a position through the Department of Justice working in the International Zone (Baghdad) on the DOJ team advising and assisting the Iraqi Special Tribunal. These dudes are responsible for prosecuting Saddam Hussein and his cohorts. When not serving in that paralegal-esque capacity, he will be painting walls. Either way, he's no longer sleeping in the other room.

So that jazz, a completed lease, and a sweaty walk up a hill every afternoon convinced me it was time for a new adventure. I’ll be living close to the National Zoo in the Woodley Park area of DC in a beautiful 6-bedroom, 4-level house. I don’t know any of my roommates yet. Two others have been chosen. All I know from my landlord is one works at the World Bank, one is in real estate, one is 25, one is 29, one is from Pakistan, and nobody knows from where the other hails. Please choose-your-own-adventure and combine those aforementioned characteristics to form two roommates (when you guys are reading this a month or two later because I’m forcing you at gunpoint, please forgive my mish-mashing). The rest are on the way. Cameras monitor every nook and cranny in the house and the show is set to air on MTV in the Spring of ’06. Word.

My third floor room is small, but the single window provides a spectacular view of the Swiss Embassy across the street and the top of the National Cathedral in the distance. I'm hoping the bells increase my number of conscious hours on a typical Saturday. If I get hungry, I can sneak up to the cathedral flower garden and eat roses. Also, the house comes complete with a functioning xylophone. I mean, c’mon. Please contact me personally to receive an updated mailing address where you can ship fan mail and exotic animals after September 10th.

Laugh until you stop laughing

Some things are funny in this world. This is one of them. Scroll down and press play..."oh look, an eagle".

Cornucopia Blog

A couple things:

• Did you know that cornucopias are also called 'horns of plenty'?...based on the mythological episode when the horn of the goat that suckled Zeus broke off and became filled with fruit. Apparently, the cornucopia filled with whatever treasures its owner desired. That's mind-blowingly amazing. i know.
• I managed to find-okay, that's not quite true...i provided essential logistical and spiritual support to someone else who did the finding-an incredible deal on flights overseas and decided to take ten days in France, Italy, and Switzerland in early-mid October. I know i've discussed such an adventure with a number of people, so if you get the travel bug and have a few bucks to spend (emphasis on 'a few', we're not travelling lavishly), maybe we could cross paths for a few days somewhere across the pond. Although many people i know studied abroad, and hence, are probably more travel-europe-cheaply savvy than myself, check out STA Travel for amazing fares. You have to be under 26 or a student to apply for the cheap deals. The destinations span the globe, not just Europe. Be persistent, the fickle rates sometimes change from day to day. If you see something amazing, don't anticipate it being there tomorrow.
• Another choice selection from the don't-they-actually-work-at-the-department-of-justice vault: Professional skateboarder Danny Way hurled himself over the Great Wall of China on a skateboard. Check it out. Here's his website.
• Astronaut Tim Robinson recorded the first quasi-podcast from space. Thanks BoingBoing.

That's it. I feel better now.

Taxis, the bane joy of my existence

A human being can only endure undue punishment for so long before simmering, tension-laden vats of justice-seeking adrenaline boil over in a torrent of revolutionary outcry. Taxis have recently elicited such violent outbursts from yours-truly as I’ve finally reached the point where I cannot passively accept their lawless behavior.

Kristy and I decided to grab a cheap lunch on Saturday for Restaurant Week in DC. Long story short, we were nine blocks away and needed to get there pronto. No buses in sight, I sacrificed my usually unwavering pledge to only take taxis if my life depended on it (or, if it’s six in the morning) and caved to the pressure. We hopped in and drove a block before realizing we only had eight dollars cash between the two of us. According to our driver, whom we immediately alerted to this predicament, the fare for this ride cost exactly $10.10 for two people. I repeat we picked the cab up ½ block inside zone 1 and rode about 8 blocks into zone 2a, and our driver had the audacity to charge us $10.10. First of all, it was questionable whether he should charge the fare for two zones to begin with considering we were only ½ block away from the dividing line and we were riding a grand total of 9 blocks. Secondly, we notified him of our innocent mistake almost immediately upon entering the taxi. Finally, he wouldn’t stop but, instead, insisted upon releasing every verbal dagger in his impressive arsenal at a 80 decibals from a distance of approximately 2 ½ feet while he tore away at breakneck speed, endangering himself, his passengers, any nearby pedestrians and the general air quality in DC. I was so impressed with his relentless cathartic vituperative that I decided to partake and by the end we were firing a barrage of ‘spirited dialogue’ at each other. Good times.

All this transpired in the immediate wake of another battle in Manhattan the previous week. Regarding that debacle, I’ll say this: when you and a cabbie decide upon a set fare, the deal is done. Just like any other business transaction, once you complete that verbal contract, there’s no reneging on your obligation. The passenger and the driver are both obligated to honor their end of the bargain. Therefore, when our driver tried to renegotiate a set fare from the East Village across the Hudson to Jersey City upon discovering delays in the Holland Tunnel, I was having none of it. You’re right, every DJ in NYC is blabbing away about the Holland Tunnel delays, that’s exactly why you should have known before you agreed to our fare. Blame yourself for not staying updated on the pertinent information concerning your job. Don’t unleash a tirade on the passengers in the backseat because they won’t remunerate your mistake. He and I were getting along famously by the end of our trip…when he sped around the deserted streets of Jersey City at 6:30 am and eventually dropped us off 2 miles away from home sweet home. We send postcards now.

I understand that cab drivers in DC and NYC, and other cities for that matter, work long, arduous hours patrolling the streets, shuttling around a fair number of drunken, overpaid, arrogant bastards that neglect the humanity of whomever steers the wheel and punches the gas. Oftentimes, putting up with the humiliating episodes inherent in the life of a cabbie offers one of the few opportunities for immigrants to make a respectable wage and put their kids through school. I have every intention to respect them as people and compensate them for the service they provide.

However, at some point generosity must cease and practicality must begin. I’m subsisting on a relatively meager non-profit salary in a city characterized by ridiculously overpriced rents. Just as I don’t plan on dismissing them as some delinquent stereotype, I don’t like being viewed as a trust-fund Georgetown brat or Wall Street sycophant who can throw around 20’s like they’re coasters at the martini club. I need to watch my expenditures so I don’t drown and I’m definitely not taking my last breath inside an overpriced taxi.

The NYC episode doesn’t reflect my overall opinion of their taxi system since meters normally determine the fare. That’s a statement regarding fulfilling your end of a pledge. That’s it. Do your research in advance and don’t blame me for not knowing what you already should. Period.

The zone system in DC, however, benefits nobody except the cabdrivers and all too often results in shouting matches, slammed doors and screeching tires. The purportedly ‘set’ fares between zones almost never compute properly. I know because I’ve studied that tattered zone-sheet numerous times…and my roommate pulled an epic stunt by permanently ‘borrowing’ one of those laminated maps and plastering it on our living room wall. We quiz each other before work in the morning. Okay, that’s not true.

We need more accountability and fewer strained vocal chords in DC. The solution is simple: dump the Zone System and fire up the meters. I, for one, would be much more willing to catch an occasional cab and the collective blood pressure of the district might relax to something only slightly threatening.

Theatre like you've never seen

Friends of friends. Oh, how they introduce you to the most interesting things.
Tonight I saw a performance of Les Liaisons Dangereuses presented by a local theatre troupe in DC. So, they took some artistic liberties and toyed with the script a little: the performance included only male actors. The characters from Choderlos de Laclos' 1782 novel, however, remained unaltered (men were men, and women were men), as did the essence of the story. It was interesting watching a six foot tall blond male perform as the ever-conspiring Marquise de Merteuil (both my favorite character and actor). The Source Theatre consists of a roughly 30 x 100 ft rectangular room housing a stage area (floor level) and about 100 tiered seats positioned in the front and to either side. Needless to say, the atmosphere was intimate. You can imagine that the steamy scenes, complete with full nudity, left nothing to the imagination. To think this novel was written over 220 years ago confounds me considering the story remains racy in 2005.
I'd highly recommend this show both for its artistic merits and for a glimpse of DC culture that largely hovers under the radar. Be prepared to forgive a few missed lines and a sparse stage in return for a novel adaptation and overall excellent acting. The theatre group caters mostly to the lesbian/gay/bi/trans population in DC, but I don't think this production was limiting in its appeal. The themes remain universal and relevant, and the diversity in the crowd expresses this most convincingly.
It should be noted that the show is scheduled to run at Busboys and Poets (great name) just up the street at 14th and V, but moved down to 14th and T for some performances until the other venue is ready.

Why didn't South Korea choose him?

What animal could possibly be more deserving of having its genes duplicated than my new-found friend Tyson? Suggesting my girlfriend's current level of productivity at her job, she managed to find this genius bulldog who conducts himself with infinitely more poise and style on a skateboard than I ever have or will. Be sure to check out the video clips listed under 'Pics and Movies' because they'll blow you away, especially the one where he's riding downhill towards the beach. Ty and Eric, you better be down at Huntington Beach on September 18th, because Tyson will reign as Grand Marshall during Walk For The Animals. I'll never forgive you if you don't go.

Also, while doing my research to verify that i'm not the only idiot utterly captivated by this dog, I happened upon another website listed in Men's Journal's 100 Best Websites from August 2004 that consists of videos showing scantily clad, voluptuous women trying to rev their sporty rides out of various muddy traps. My unschooled opinion thinks they're catering to those with foot fetishes, mudwrestling afficionados, and control freaks, but i'm probably wrong. Imagine sitting-in on the think tank that engendered this marvelous creation. I wonder if they considered the equally tantalizing 'womensharpeningpencils.com' or 'babesbreathingoxygen.com'?

It takes all kinds.

Oh yeah, why are they trying to rename my street. Reagan already has his airport and federal building, isn't that enough. Story first broken by DCist.

Doctor, i'll take over from here...

I listened to an interesting panel discussion today at the Academies regarding Direct to Consumer advertizing. Direct to Consumer advertizing, or DTC, refers to how pharmaceutical companies market their products directly to patients via radio, television, and print media. Instead of recapping everything i heard, i thought i'd just share a couple thoughts (i do have independent thoughts, occasionally).

First of all, the whole notion of advertizing prescription drugs to patients seems absurd. Whereas nearly all ads target a consumer who wields the power to determine whether or not they will purchase the product, these drugs are being marketed to patients who technically have no say in whether or not they will ultimately purchase the product from the companies. instead, doctors must first prescribe the medications before patients can pour absurd amounts of money down the pharmacy's throat.

now as you can see, there was a 'technically' included in that last point. the speakers described an academic study that explored the impact patients had upon their doctors, and how advertizing played into the ordeal. the study consisted of a few hundred actors, all of which pretended to exhibit the symptoms of depression/adjustment disorder. Upon visiting their doctors, a third of the actors didn't ask for any medication, a third asked for medication without specifying, and the last third requested a particular medication (in this case, paxil). All the patients had identical symptoms, yet those who asked for medication were much more likely to receive medication, and those who specified paxil were much more likely to be prescribed paxil than those who didn't specify.

the moral of the story is that patients are influencing the diagnoses of their doctors and playing a part in if/what drugs are prescribed. This is wrong. If people were knowledgeable enough to diagnose their own illnesses, then we wouldn't need doctors as intermediaries. the reality is that watching a 30 second commercial that 1) convinces you that you do have a problem, when you may or may not, and 2) enlightens you as to how their product might remedy that problem DOES NOT equate with seven years of medical school plus residency.

Although i can understand the difficulties with keeping abreast of the values/risks of newly introduced drugs while still maintaining a bustling schedule, the task must ultimately fall upon the shoulders of the medical community to determine whether or not they prescribe a certain drug. This should be ingrained deep in the mindset of medical students, and once granted their license to practice, there should be obligatory seminars at established intervals wherein doctors must attend and learn of any new medicines pertinent to their field, or any new information concerning those medicines already in circulation.

DTC plays only a peripheral role in the grand scheme of pharmaceatical advertizing. Roughly 4 billion will be spent on DTC in the states in the next fiscal year, while a total of about 25 billion will be spent by pharmaceutical companies advertizing their products (other forms include sampling, medical journal advertizements, etc). still, that money isn't negligable. i think it should be redirected (the US is one of two countries in the world that allows DTC Rx ads...New Zealand will most likely ban it in the near future) to informing the medical community more effectively so we can rely on our doctors to know what we need. as far as people being concerned about their own well-being, i think hypochrondria has established a firm foothold in our society and won't be waning anytime soon. so fear not, if somebody's depressed and the television commercials disappear, i don't think we'll see an enormous dip in trips to the psychiatrist.

now the question about how drug companies are allowed to market their products directly to doctors is another crucial issue. should there be limits on spending? should somebody (the federal government, medical oversight bodies) fund this advertizing so that everyone gets an equal say? how do they determine who gets a say in the first place? all questions for another time and another blog.

all i know is that a medicine should be weighed on its medical benefits, and not the sexiness of a marketing campaign.

Intolerance at its finest moment

Military discrimination has, to my knowledge, facilitated exactly one positive development (I'd be happy to hear if i missed anything else). Apparently, Jimi Hendrix managed to avoid a stint in Vietnam in the early sixties by pretending to be homosexual.

In regular visits to the base psychiatrist at Fort Campbell, Ky., in spring
1962, Hendrix complained that he was in love with one of his squad mates and
that he had become addicted to masturbating, Cross writes. Finally, Capt.
John Halbert recommended him for discharge, citing his "homosexual
tendencies."

This would be hilarious information to unearth about any artistic legend, but with Jimi Hendrix, it couldn't be more ridiculous. An insatiable appetite for women remains one of the cornerstones of the Hendrix legend. Or maybe he was gay and just tried really, really, really, really, really hard to compensate for what he thought was a lack of traditional masculinity. He succeeded in tricking me. Besides that, it sounds like a pretty typical rags-to-riches-to-drugs-to-deathbed rock story...which means I'd find it interesting.