Attention world! Now is the perfect time to start loving yourself!
Are you going to eat that?
Filed in articles, food, science, August 16, 2009, 8:10 PM by laurenThere’s some flexibility in the definition of science, with one corner of the internet giving it the following: ability to produce solutions in some problem domain.
Well, the problem is I’m hungry…
Now envision a scientist, balls deep in beakers and Bunsen burners, actualizing his dreams into god-minimizing realities. Once in awhile, that scientific know-how is brought into the edible industries. Actually, more than once in awhile, if you look into all of the garbage that goes into processed foods. (FYI – each individual word is a separate link — that’s how SRS this stuff is).
But, I’m going to take a break away from the scary, remove my tin-foil hat, and show you my secret stash of food science masterpieces that make me nauseous, aroused, and sometimes a combination of the two.
When I first heard of the This Is Why You’re Fat blog, I expected to be on the side of the individuals who found every product ~*omg so disgusting*~, and were ashamed by American gluttony™ and all of the dirty things we could do with processed meats. (True Story: In 7th grade, I lived in Utah, and my peers were shocked when I had issues believing in god. At age 20, I lived in Chicago, and my co-workers were outrightly appalled that I wasn’t in love with bacon).
Well, it wasn’t that easy, and I’ve chosen to compile the worst of the worst…and the worst garbage that I’d easily enact the nom nom for.
Let’s start with Aspic. Aspic is basically clear gelatin (often used with stock) with endless possibilities. I could go the easy route with calling it “aspicable,” but that wouldn’t do justice to the true horror of this dish. You know how grandma thinks ambrosia is the pinnacle of desserts? Well it’s not just because she can take her teeth out and hunker down, but because jello was a way of life in the 50s. It was all Americaaa, fuck yeah, bone marrow from animals will preserve freedommmmm and leftovers… Aspic takes the awkward texture, subtracts the canned fruits and plays a hand of CHUNKS OF SALTED PORK AND COAGULATED ANIMAL STOCK instead.
I can’t say I understand the watermark or why anyone would willingly take ownership of this
It gets better.
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THE HIPOCALYPSE – Part 1
Filed in articles, hipocalypse, pop culture, videos, August 6, 2009, 2:51 PM by lauren
“And the dead shall rise, and they will be wearing the shutteriest of shades, the skinniest of jeans…”
There was a period of time in which hipsters were safe, and their limitations seemed endless. The world was light, and even their Chrome bags did not weigh them down. They survived with substance abuse, while lacking any other semblance of substance and thrived with their look and their self-interest, bouncing happily standing placidly as hollow placeholders for souls, left completely unawares that their identities would soon be harvested as their giant Wayfarers blocked their view of the coming dawn…
Somewhere in the annals of modern day hipster literature, presumably amidst the liner notes of some formulaic Chuck Palahniuk novel, there exists the Hipster Book of Revelation. Within this fundamental work, the impending apocalypse was written about in dramatic detail. Little excerpts have been unearthed, in tweet-length verse, and will be shared today, with the timeline of the end of days as it is carried out.
THE HIPOCALYPSE BEGINS, The Prophecy of Irony
The Four Horsemen
“The ukuleles will strum as the Four Horsemen arrive, clothed in intricate fabrics, American Apparel’s gold lame and open vests…”
Who cares if your kid is getting speech lessons from a quasi-retarded rapper with a lisp? Your toddler’s gonna beatbox!
“The First Horseman, complete with his army of wiggly-appendages furries in tow, will come forward, as the first note sounds…”
The beginning of the end is often misconstrued, as the first two horsemen arrived within mere weeks of one another, but the inception of the Hipocalypse firmly falls upon the shoulders of hipster parents. Yo Gabba Gabba!, apparently Joey Ramone’s dying legacy-related wish, came to actuality in the summertime of ’07. The show succeeded in raising children with the important learning fundamental of ironic sensibility by way of irrelevant hip hop artists. They began realizing that tongue-in-cheek ironic humor is best started when there are no teeth to interfere. Meanwhile parents self-congratulated in between buying band-emblazoned onesies harvested from organic cotton and blogging about how young Aubergine or Rudyard or Belle or Sebastian was flashing the horns in the picture from the birth announcement.
Little did they know, the danger was starting, as the harbingers of hip from Yo Gabba Gabba! brought back the ghetto blaster, giving a nod to the antichrist himself and setting the ground work for the Hipocalypse. Soon, the Church of Children encroached upon more followers, as parents outside of the white middle-class found themselves falling prey to the persuasive powers of Yo Gabba Gabba!, blinded by hipster baby toys incorporating the laws of design and minimalism, deafened by instrumental lullabies of Nirvana.
Shortly thereafter, as stated in the prophecy, musicians were bewitched, as Lisa Loeb and They Might Be Giants offered forward their musical sacrifices and auditory abortions to the baby borne movement. Shortly following their martyrdom came directors Spike Jonze, Noah Baumbach, and Wes Anderson, entranced by the gilded occult, stretching their intrinsically hip sensibilities toward the fearsome young demons in the form of a never-before-scene art: the hipster children’s movie. This innovation simultaneously began breaking childhood conventions and giving way to an even more evil self-entitled, self-righteous generation indoctrinated with arguments over the best non-Motown soul album to come out in the 60s and the shining examples of chamber pop, whilst having childhood memories of their mother singing an Arcade Fire song to them, as they fell asleep.
“And soon, the second ukulele would begin to be played, as the second horseman came down to earth…”
Science Sundays: The Lotus Effect
Filed in science, videos, August 2, 2009, 7:03 PM by laurenI’m already starting to slack here (though at present I am writing for myself so that would invariably happen), but I have decided some recurring themes would add some uniformity and give me incentive to post. As a pretty forward thinking atheist (I will write the thorough why later – it seems atheists, too, are subject to writing their anti-testimony), I am naturally intrigued and influenced by science pretty regularly. However, thanks to being really fucking awful at math, science and I have a pretty casual relationship. I’ll give it a call when I’m caught in a daydream, looking for some immediate satisfaction to blow my mind, but I can’t commit to it. Even if animals and large insects really interest me. (That sounds wrong). Anyway, I’ve decided to share something really interesting (that may or may not have anything to do with a current event) every Sunday that pertains to scientific study, ability, facts, or research in general. This week, I learned about The Lotus Effect.
In video form:
What it is: The Lotus Effect got its name sake because the leaves of the lotus plant (and some other plants and insect wings) carry a high water repellency, as exhibited by the video. Its surface tension causes liquids, dirt, and other substances to bead up and is like a self-cleaning mechanism of the plant. Yes, sure, OCD in plants almost. This effect is of a great importance for plants, not for keeping them clean but as a protection against pathogens like fungi or algae growth. This discovery has lead to product development and research by nanotechnologists.
That was all my paraphrasing of wiki, by the way.
A fake alternative is on the way.
For me, a simpleton, it’s just really awesome to look at. And makes you wonder, why, if there’s a god with this intelligent design capability he gave it to leaves rather than our eyes, you know?
Speaking All Good and Stuff: Palin’s Last Frontier
Filed in articles, politics, July 24, 2009, 11:26 AM by laurenLeave it to the Elite Liberal Media terrorism cell to get out their weapons of mass correction to take on poor little Sarah Palin with red pens and scathing grammatical competency.
It’s been a source of mockery (or as Sarah would say, “stinkin’ gotcha grammar dogs”) for weeks now, but finally Vanity Fair has brought the clusterfuck logic-bomb that is Sarah Palin’s speaking ability to an even bigger arena, so that unemployed English majors could get a laugh on their level, too. (I love you all). What did we expect though? She had a history of repeating her rally-the-base stump speech even long after the election was over. She should have stolen a speech writer from her party instead of dozens of red business suits bedazzled with American flag pins and a suitcase full of Bump Its.
It’s also worth it to note that she gets her state’s history wrong in the speech. Goddamnit woman, we’ve given you so much slack since you’re hopped up on Alaska pills and it’s supposedly all you care about, but you don’t even know its basic history? Its fucking inception-related history?!
I love it.
She warn't tryna speak all good and elite, anyways.
More here.
You Just Got Knocked the Fuck Up
Filed in pop culture, July 23, 2009, 10:25 PM by lauren
Going two years without cable, and even longer without a personal television, made me forget the depravity I was missing out on. I didn’t really miss watching cultural stereotypes being catered to on dating shows that would just force me to think about things like how saggy the balls were of some has-been musicians, or if Flava Flav was living proof of human-troll hybrids. And, I certainly didn’t miss stilted and poorly acted “reality television.”
While house-sitting and perusing all the viewing opportunities, I came across “16 and Pregnant” and after first being disgusted about the premise and assuming the network was going to glamorize the condition: I turned it on. I was ready and expecting to exercise my cynicism. And what I got, actually, was quite the surprise.
Sing Your Heart Out, Kimya Dawson
The Show
“16 and Pregnant” is an actual reality show. You can take your island competitions and your Spring Break Never Dies type shows and cast them aside. This tired genre has been done respectfully and right without making social martyrs of the mamas and without losing sight of the ultimate message.
The girls come from an assorted set of backgrounds. There is Farrah, the privileged and somewhat emotionally vacant (to her credit, she has a mom who bitch slaps her for her “anti-Christ attitude”) cheerleader who seems to be having the baby due to presumed religious pressure from her parents. Her concern seems to be centered on some superficiality like how pregnancy will make her boobs look but, in the end, still decides pursuing college is in the immediate future and comfortably settles into single motherhood.
There’s Maci, the southern belle with an extremely understanding, supportive family, a sharp mind, and collegiate ambition (yet anchored by a deadbeat boyfriend who severely needed a z-snap and a wake up call [that asshat seriously says, as she cradles his child: "If we didn't have the baby, we wouldn't be together"). Now don’t think they’re all super-empowered or in ideal situations. The show brings along a reality check with the girls Whitney (who apparently would rather not tie her own shoes or have any semblance of autonomy) and Amber (her boyfran' went all out with a $21.40 engagment ring), clearly from lower-class families, the former being nothing more than a complete child, and the latter with a firm understanding of the situation ahead of her. Lastly, there’s Ebony, the sole woman of color who is forced to put her life’s dreams indefinitely on hold as well as her high school graduation, with the support of her own single mother and her goofy, gangly significant other, always a guffaw away with THOSE TEETH.
There is one bias in the show, and it’s thoroughly deserved: the kids who chose adoption were treated like royalty, but it was clear that they didn’t have to edit their personalities to fit that role.
One of the Mamas (Maci)
That would be Catelynn and Tyler, two teens who are virtually superior to their peers in terms of seeing the pregnancy appropriately in the long-term. They come from broken families (an alcoholic mother, a prison-seasoned father who claims his son is not “ the cowboy” he thought he was) and RECOGNIZE IT(!), and are determined to afford their daughter a better life than what they are currently able to give her. The most startling aspect of their story, however, was how little support they received from their family about their decision. It shows a great deal about our society, one in which teenage pregnancy is common and ignorable, and adoption is thought beneath a struggling family. And, oh, how I cried. I am not made of stone.
The United States has a problem. For an industrialized nation, our babies-havin’-babies quota is out of control. Let’s do the numbers game. In a given year, 730,000 girls get pregnant (3/10 girls are pregnant before age 20), half of those babies are born, and of those born a mere 1% are put up for adoption. Factor in the oft-failing sexual education programs implemented in schools, and there’s no real reason for the numbers to be shifted. “16 and Pregnant” puts faces and stories to the epidemic in this country, without glamorizing the situation.
The Juno Factor
Talking to a friend about this had him initially less than convinced that the show was beneficial in any way. “Okay, let’s just be honest here,” he questioned. “Would this kind of show exist in a world before Juno?” There are obvious nods to the movie throughout the lot of this series. From the indie tracks humming away in the background while diapers are changed and the sketch pad montage: this show wishes that Diablo Cody nursed it from her very teat. I conceded in conversation that its existence might have been stifled otherwise, but added in that this show coupled with that movie has allowed the tone of teenage pregnancy to shift in public conversation. It’s not a Lifetime movie and it’s not an episode of Maury; it’s hasty acts and hard decisions and hurried youth. And, truthfully, these kids aren’t all idiots, they are just generally misguided. It gives some hope in that sense.
These girls also get to be more than public service announcements, there are moments of comedy and joy, just as there should be in a television show that is supposed to simply be recorded reality.
The Single Mother Syndrome
Bless you, MTV (never thought I’d say that and mean it) for representing single mothers on the show as well. Whether it’s Ann Coulter’s batshit rants about single mothers single-handedly destroying the fabric of our nation, or the triumphs of this sizable group of individuals going virtually unrecognized and uncelebrated (don’t even get me started on the double-edged sword of government assistance!), MTV finally gives a direct wave in their general direction and doesn’t make it look less than the experience of the couples featured.
This show, ultimately, does teenage pregnancy right. You’re allowed to get infuriated with the girl who is too lazy to do anything for herself and are not forced to think the situation remedied itself completely by delivery time. You’re also made to appreciate the difficulty of an atypical teen pregnancy that ends in adoption as being just as emotionally strenuous, albeit in a different way. Voyeuristic? Invasive? These girls are also presented with handheld cameras and given the opportunity to narrate the stories from start to finish. It is as purely their own as it can be, and with matters of having a child at hand, I doubt there was an overwhelming concern for what they might be showcasing to the general public. There’s supposed to be another season; that is both disheartening (due to the sheer availability) and enlightening. Now, MTV, just fix one thing: let’s actually represent minority women next time and maybe somehow represent women who choose the abortion route. I mean, it won’t make a tv show, but their stories deserve to be told, too.
Now I’m going to go off and hate myself, for birthing this blog over teenage pregnancy. I should have learned better than that. My mama raised me right.
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