Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Alienation of Affections, Feline Variety

Ever since I adminstered flea medication to my kitteh earlier this week, he's been shooting lasers at me with his eyes. It looks like this:
(Yes, it's possible I'm smelling my cat's head in this pic, it's also possible that you should mind your own cat-smelling business!)

Any advice on how I can get back in kitteh's circle of trust? He's always peowsed off when he gets tackled and medicated, but his ire is lasting longer than usual. I just want to get some cuddles, so I'd like to speed up this relationship recovery process.

Suggestions welcome. 

Crock Pot Crosspost: This Is Nerdery!

If you're a nerd, you may have just taken the Jeopardy! online contestant test like I just did. I think I did pretty well, but this is my first crack at it, so I don't really know what, if anything, "pretty well" gets you in this game show application game. I can assume, based on the fact that there's a Jeopardy! newsletter and numerous Jeopardy! fan sites, that trying out for Jeopardy! is its own nerd subculture, and since I'm already an active participant in several other nerd subcultures that take up a goodly amount of my time, it's not one I'll be joining.

I did have fun taking the test, however, and it got me thinking about the guy who pwned Jeopardy! week after week yet humbly accepted defeat at the hands of a dweeby supercomputer named Watson (which I personally think is a dumb name for a supercomputer, I would have named it something cooler like...Supe...Supey...no, Super Duper...Pooper Shooter the Supercomputer, or Jim), the one and only Ken Jennings. Yeah, I know there are probably, like, two hundred people named Ken Jennings in various phone books throughout the U.S., but you know what I meant.

Ken Jennings is not only a Jeopardy!-slaying beast, he's a pretty funny guy. Which is why today's CPCP is from Ken Jennings' blog, Confessions of a Trivial Mind.

Crosspost:

KJ's blog FAQs, the most Jeopardy!-tryout related work of literature on these united webbernets.

I found KJ's responses to the questions frequently asked of him endearing and clever. And now that I know he does a Wordplay Wednesday feature on his blog, I think I'm becoming a fan. What are Ken Jennings fans called, anyway? Jemmings? Like Jennings combined with lemmings? Or human supercomputer superfans...who area also human? That one's kind of wordy. I don't know what we're called (yup, I used "we", so I think that makes my fandom official) but we're out there! Get used to it! Kick rocks, Watsonites!

Crock Pot Recipe:


In honor of today's game show theme, I present crock pot Cornish game hens as today's recipe, courtesy of Greyson Ferguson at About.com.

Happy reading and bon app!

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Crock Pot Crosspost: A Lie is a Lie is a Lie

Nice try, Mike Daisey, but nobody's buying it. You got caught in a lie, excuse me, LIES. And what you should be doing is apologizing, PROFUSELY, to everyone who's integrity you put on the line with your stories. What you're doing instead is pretending like this was all part of some great plan to highlight a "bigger truth".

Bull merde! Pardon my French.

Daisey's attempts at talking himself out of this corner are about as skillful as what I'd expect a middle schooler, who learned about the art of persuasion yesterday, to come up with when caught behind the baseball fields smoking.

First of all, Daisey's current message is inconsistent. If "it's not journalism, it's theatre," then why would Daisey have participated in a program like This American Life in the first place? And why would he have needed to talk with fact checkers at all, or hide a translator from TAL? He could have simply said, "the details aren't important because this is fiction; I did research to create an air of reality for this work of fiction, but it's not intended to be taken as the truth." Taking "a few shortcuts," which he sooo generously admits to, would have been irrelevant, because art doesn't require substantiation. The reason Daisey never said anything like that, of course, is that he never thought of this as theatre rather than journalism, until he had no other choice.

Second, if veracity does matter (which Daisey seems to half believe), who the balls does Daisey think he is to decide what constitutes the "bigger truth"?  What does "bigger truth" even mean? If it's something other than just plain truth, then I've got another word for it. Young children are generally able to grasp that, when it comes to details, there is truth, and there is un-truth (also known as lies). Of course Daisey's "bigger truth", his narrative, is not a truth at all. It's a subjective, steeped in his imagination, significantly fabricated fable designed to fit his premise. When scientists alter their data to fit their hypotheses it's called fraud. Daisey's story, with the lies added in, might be more interesting and titillating for the lies, but clearly, it's fraud.

That a lot of what Daisey presented did pan out, doesn't change anything either. The scientist who has 90% of the data he needs to substantiate his hypothesis but fabricates the final 10% is not forgiven the deceipt because "a lot" of what he presented was true. One drop of poison spoils the soup. And if we really value journalism we'll not make comments about how Daisey said a lot of truthful things too. It's so plain to me that this isn't important. Most dishonest people still tell the truth a lot of the time, but there's no credit for that. A cheater doesn't get credit for all the games where he didn't cheat, a kidnapper doesn't get props for all the kids he didn't kidnap, and Daisey doesn't get credit for the truthful things he included as part of a fraudulent show.

Daisey's attempt to persuade the public that he didn't intend to mislead, or worse, that he's just above petty little things like truthful details, is an insult. And one that would be dangerous, if anyone was buying it. Fortunately, no one is. And it's a relief that in a world where the silver-tongued serpents of industry, media, and politics rely on the pervasiveness of gullibility, there's still no one stupid enough to buy this bridge.

Today's Crosspost:

Mark Baumgarten of City Art's Magazine shares some thoughts on having been lied to by Daisey in At Large: On Getting Duped by Mike Daisey.

Today's Crock Pot Recipe:

Liar's Tomato Soup by Annie at Tastebook.

This soup can be served chilled, so you can give your crock pot the week off if you want to. And if serving the soup hot, you can heat this soup in a saucepan or use your slow cooker, just keep the temp and time in your slow cooker loooow. This soup shouldn't come to a boil.


Remember, friends: shortcuts are just fine in cooking, but not in journalism.

Happy reading and bon app!

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Thursday, March 15, 2012

I'm In Luuuurv!

The Dizzy Dames Etsy shop is to die!

I'll admit it, when I've got that hankerin' for retail therapy but don't want to spend a buns ton of money on clothes for myself, I, from time to time, buy Barbie clothes. I'm ridiculous, I know.

Dizzy Dames' handmade Barbie clothes are EQUISITE. You would not believe the detailing and styling. And dresses generally cost $5.50, which is about what you'd pay for a store bought Barbie dress of far inferior quality.

This arrived in my mailbox this morning...


Are you kidding me?! Gorgeous. I can now pretend my Barbie is Betty Draper...'cause, that's a normal thing to do...

"I'm as corny as Kansas in August, high as a flag on the fourth of July! If you'll excuse an expression I use, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love..." with a teeny tiny dress.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

A Hastily Thrown Together Traffic Rant

Not a crock pot crosspost.
It’s Wednesday. I should be combing the webbernets for a salient post and a savory recipe to share for Hump Day’s CPCP. Instead, I’m too filled with road hatred to focus. Yes, yes, I’m being petty, trite, and tired, and the subject of schmawwwful drivers is nowhere near interesting, but it’s what’s on my mind.
These are the thoughts most rattling around my bean right now:
1.  Sure, it’s daytime, BUT, it’s also pouring down rain and the sun has scarcely peeked through the Seattle clouds in weeks, so you need to PUT YOUR LIGHTS ON, idiots. Your dingy gray car is not visible against the dingy gray asphalt and bummed out gray March sky.

2.  I’m not going to drive like a bat out of What the Heck Fest just because you’re up my car’s buns in a parking garage. It’s a PARKING GARAGE. There are people walking around, cars backing out, sharp turns, merging traffic, this is not the time to pretend you’re in Too Fast, Too Furious Tokyo Takeout Part IV, okay eager Escalade? BACK OFF.

3.  WHHY-YYY (bellowed in the style of Nancy Kerrigan) do people who do nothing but drive all day long (cabbies) have the lowest driving competency of anyone? Speaking of other vehicles being up my car’s buns, when I find myself on a very steep, wet hill, I will also invariably, find a cab up my car’s buns. Because, apparently, either a) they hate me and they want to make it very difficult for me to not bruise my ride; or b) they hate their employers and want to bruise their own rides.

4.  Cross the street already. Crosswalkers, I will stop for you, I always stop for you, I’m a polite Seattleite. But pay it back by walking at a decent clip. I’m not asking you to jog, or even hustle, just don’t drag ace across the street. Unless you’re walking with a cane, then, by all means, do not pull or snap anything. But young people, quit dinkin’ around while you’re in a crosswalk, just get across and move on. Make it a game, pretend the street is hot lava. Because, trust me, if I breath fiery dragon breath at it in a furious rage, it will turn to hot lava.

5.  Do not turn left at an intersection where it will prevent everyone in the left lane from getting anydangthing done, if you can just turn left at a left turn signal at the next intersection. A little advanced planning (like one whole block in advance) will save us all some time and trouble.

6.  Be aggressive, B-E aggressive, B-E-A-GG-R-E-SS-I-V-E! There is no perfect turning moment, it will not come, take advantage of the imperfect turning moments. You’re probably a control freak or something, and I’m sorry if making a move in downtown traffic causes you anxiety, but just toss back a lorazepam and get it done. Okay, maybe don’t do that, you’re probably not supposed to drive on that kind of medication, say an affirmation and get it done.
This hastily thrown together traffic rant brought to you by the people (who drive cars) of Seattle.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Why Talking on a Cell Phone is Not Actually Rude in Most Situations

A couple of days ago I read an article about a weirdo in Philly who brings a cell phone jammer on the bus with him so that he can interrupt the phone conversations of fellow bus riders.

His basic premise is that cell phone talkers have “no sense of just privacy or anything.” It bugs him to have to listen to other peoples’ conversations, and, as a result, he feels he has the right to put a stop to those conversations.
Some folks on the webbernets (not many, but a few) have heralded this butthead as some sort of vigilante folk hero, not supporting his methods, but agreeing that public citizens shouldn’t talk on the phone while going about their daily business.
I have beef with this, big hormone injected beef, because there’s a major flaw with his (and similar) arguments against public cell phone use: people have conversations in public ALL THE TIME. And when it’s in person, it doesn’t seem to bother anyone. Shaming public cell phone talkers is arbitrary.
Assuming the volume and topic of conversation are the same, how is it any different for me to sit on the bus next to my sister and talk to her (which no one seems to mind) than it is for me to talk to her on the phone while I’m on the bus? It’s not. The level of inconvenience to you, which should be none since the bus isn’t the library, is exactly the same. Yet when a cell phone is involved, peops get all in a snit!
The rudeness of cell phone talking has very little to do with the phone itself, and instead has everything to do with the time, place, and manner of the conversation.
A few examples to demonstrate my point:
It is rude to talk on the phone while interacting with a grocery checker, bank teller, or cashier, not because a phone is involved, but because it’s rude to not give a person your undivided attention during an exchange. It would be just as rude to stand face to face with a checker, teller, or cashier and carry on a conversation with the person standing next to you during the exchange. It is not, however, rude to talk at a reasonable volume on a cell phone while waiting in line, just as it is not rude to talk at a reasonable volume to, say, your kid, who’s standing next to you while you wait.
It is rude to publicly talk to your nurse practitioner on the phone about your toe fungus, but not because of the phone, because no one wants to hear about toe jams and jellies while they’re walking around minding their own danged business. It would be just as rude to have this conversation with your NP in person in a public setting. Keep that type of thing at the doctor’s office.
It’s rude to talk very loudly on a cell phone; again, not because of the phone, but because of the volume. You should also not shout to the person standing next to you while having a public conversation in a quiet or semi-quiet space.
It is annoying, if not rude, to say smoopy things to your significant other on the phone while in full earshot of others, JUST as it is rude to do this in person. In fact, in this scenario, the in-person PDA is usually far worse, since it’s generally accompanied by public smooching and canoodling. Gross.
It is rude to talk on a cell phone in the library/movie theater/church sanctuary/opera/lecture hall because, GASP, it is rude to talk in those places period. The phone is irrelevant.
I don’t appreciate arbitrariness, and there seems to be so much of it where cell phones are concerned.
In addition to being miffed about arbitrary phone etiquette, I’m miffed about arbitrary driving laws (in states like mine) that target cell phone use; not because I don’t think distracted driving is a problem, of course it is, but because cell phones are only one type of distraction. I disagree with my state’s prohibition against drivers holding cell phones. Currently, law enforcement is authorized to make traffic stops and ticket drivers for merely holding phones, even when the phone holding isn’t accompanied by bad driving. It’s just as dangerous (perhaps more dangerous) to drive while applying mascara, yet idiots do it, and there’s no specific prohibition against it. If you can manage to put on your mascara while driving safely (which I doubt, but if you can, good on ya!) you won’t be ticketed. But if you’re driving safely as can be with a cell phone in hand, ticketed. You can fumble with a mixed tape while spanking your kid who’s sitting in the back seat and at the same time play a clarinet, but you’ll only be pulled over if you swerve or brake erratically as a result. Meanwhile, cell phone in hand will get you a ticket no matter what. It’s silly. I won’t burrow this distracted driving tunnel too far, since it’s not the main point of my post, but why the cell phone hate?
Cell phones aren’t going anywhere, at least not until we just have receivers implanted in our earballs. So let’s all just chill the fudge out about them, m’kay.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Crock Pot Crosspost: Dear Richies, Silence is Golden…and You Like Gold, Right?

Crosspost:
It’s Hump Day! And you know what that means…no, I’m not talking about business time, I’m talking about crosspostin’ and sloooow cookin’!
Today’s crosspost comes from Cracked.com. David Wong basically nails it with 6 Things Rich People Need to Stop Saying, and that is reason enough for his article to win the coveted Wednesday Crock Pot Crosspost slot, but for the sake of full disclosure, his article also links to a piece I wrote for Persephone Magazine called Don’t EVEN Get Me Started, Mythical Bootstraps College Student.

Despite the fact that today, like many days, I’m feeling a little self-promotional, I hope you’ll nod in agreement and mutter, “Mm, hmm. MMM HMMM. Yes, THIS!” whilst reading both Wong’s and my words. Because we’re right, and stuff.
Crock Pot Recipe:
As you nod in agreement with Wong and me, I hope you’ll take in the rich, savory aroma of braised pork ribs simmering in your slow cooker. To make that happen, check out Christine Cooks’ recipe for crock pot braised pork ribs with whole garlic cloves and fresh rosemary.

You’ll like it. It’s rich and uses plenty of cracked pepper. A feast fit for a Rockefeller. Little known fact, Nelson Rockefeller, like pork, was once called “the other white meat.” True story*.
*Not a true story.
Happy reading and bon app!