As I was walking to the subway from my office, I came upon and passed a group of 8 to 10 young people (am I old enough now to say things like "young people" when referring to twenty-somethings?) walking the same direction as me, albeit more slowly. This was around, say, 7:15 at night. I eventually noticed that one of them was carrying another fireman-style, with two more helping support the carried. He was most assuredly not conscious. Nobody seemed particularly concerned about this, in fact they all were quite jolly. These kids didn't seem drunk, however. The only snippet of conversation I heard was something about leaving him in his office, which it seemed they thought would be a hilarious idea.
I was going to close this by saying that I love the big city sometimes because you see this kind of thing sometimes, but I'm pretty sure it happens with just as much regularity in the small town too. Just they toss the unconscious in the back seat of a car and drive them home.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Steps to a Perfect Cantaloupe
1. Go to the Farmer's Market (I went to the one in Noe Valley) and pick up any old cantaloupe. This one was a blue cantaloupe, which unfortunately refers to the tinge of the rind, not the insides.
2. Take the cantaloupe home and put it on your counter.
3. Forget about your cantaloupe, or don't find time to eat it.
4. Look longingly at your cantaloupe every day. This step is important.
5. Watch your cantaloupe until it just starts to get a bit of mold growing on it, where it was taken off the vine.
6. Look longingly at your cantaloupe for a couple more days. These days are critical.
7. Two days after you first notice the moldy growth on your cantaloupe, slice it open. Eat both halves in one sitting because dammit who can resist?
The end.
2. Take the cantaloupe home and put it on your counter.
3. Forget about your cantaloupe, or don't find time to eat it.
4. Look longingly at your cantaloupe every day. This step is important.
5. Watch your cantaloupe until it just starts to get a bit of mold growing on it, where it was taken off the vine.
6. Look longingly at your cantaloupe for a couple more days. These days are critical.
7. Two days after you first notice the moldy growth on your cantaloupe, slice it open. Eat both halves in one sitting because dammit who can resist?
The end.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Bay Area Backroads #41: Pescadero
We took our first Bay Area Backroads trip this weekend, starting with card number 41 in the deck, because, you know, we're logical like that. Note that card number 1 in the deck is Lassen Volcanic National Park, which is just a bit far away for a day trip if your wife has to run 6 miles in the morning for her Team in Training training (have YOU donated?).
It was a beautiful, warm, non-foggy day (note that these terms are all relative; it was warm for here, not necessarily for wherever you are), and we have quickly learned that the direction in which you go depends highly upon these factors; if it is a cold, foggy day, you have to go east, whereas if it's a day like yesterday, you must head toward the ocean and enjoy it while it's enjoyable. So we went west. And south.
Alison wanted to go down to Monterey to see the seahorse exhibit, but the Annual Santa Cruz Mountains Wildfire happens to be this weekend, and we don't want to take the ashmatic lungs through that. However, if you stay close to the city, you're, well, close to the city. What's the perfect compromise? Pescadero, of course!
This town is about an hour away from San Francisco, just a mile or so inland from the ocean, and very typical of small towns in the west. That is to say, everybody knows everybody, there's only a few stores, and the town is full of inveterate racists, misogynists, and homophobes (just kidding about that last one, I'm sure there's only a few of them around!). But that's not where this trip starts.
We totally missed the turn-off to Pescadero, because obviously the giant Pescadero sign was not sufficient. We drove south of the town for a ways, pulling off at one of those brown "Coastal View" signs typical of the Pacific Coast. As far as we could tell, getting to this coastal view entailed traipsing across somebody's property, but there's no arguing with the Man, as they say. Because it was such a strange, out-of-the-way access point, and because it wasn't one of the more developed state beaches, it turned out to be a great, secluded spot. We ate our home-made lunch of peanut butter +/- jelly sandwiches, then went looking in the tide pools. This is one of Alison's favorite activities, searching for anemones and urchins and starfish and crabs and whatnot; "creatures." We saw three starfish (two live, one dead), and got to discover what dead sea urchins look and feel like.
We had the place to ourselves for probably about 30 minutes before anybody else came down, which is probably practically unheard of for the bay area coast on a weekend. Also, these kelp forests were super neat:
After lunch we continued south to visit the Pigeon Point Light Station, the tallest operating lighthouse on the Pacific coast. It was pretty neat, and worth the stop, and the guy in the store was very nice and talkative, but if you're not interested in lighthouses, coastal views, or history, this might not be the place for you. It was built in 1872 and has a hostel onsite that you can stay in.
After the lighthouse we tried going down to the beach right near there, but it was covered in seaweed, flies, and fishermen. We drove back to the north, this time successfully seeing the giant Pescadero sign, and drove inland toward town. Luckily for us, this weekend just happened to be the Pescadero Arts and Fun Festival, a little fair type thing with a bunch of arts and crafts booths, food stands, and a live music stage. It was fun (as advertised), and Alison got some screaming deals on some handbags made out of repurposed fabrics from Ja Ja Ja Purses. The lady in the booth was super nice, and told us all about the purses and such. Hooray for reusing and keeping things out of the landfill! We left after some ice cream in a fresh waffle cone, and visited the business district.
The business district of the town is only a block long, and features one restaurant/bar, a church, an antique store, and a couple markets. We walked past all of the businesses to Pescadero Creek, which was flowing under the bridge. On our way back we stopped at one of the markets and got a steaming hot loaf of garlic artichoke bread (artichokes seem to be a local specialty) from a local bakery and a little thing of soft goat cheese from a local cheesery. We ate them out back behind the store, in a little grassy picnic area next to the creek with some apple trees scattered around. Beautiful. We stopped in at Duarte's, and had a beer at the bar (read the history of the place, it's great...although they don't mention the fire in the early part of the 20th century, during which the fire fighters apparently took special care to save the bar itself from burning; that bar is still in use today).
We left Pescadero, picking up the Echo from its spot next to a pumpkin field, and drove back north toward Half Moon Bay. Our Backroads card mentions the Pescadero Marsh, a prime bird-watching spot, but we're not interested in such things and so skipped it. I wanted to get to the Half Moon Bay Brewing Company for dinner. We stopped near the pier in Half Moon Bay when Alison screamed, scaring the driver before explaining that she'd seen a herd of sea creatures out near the pier. She ran over there and got a picture of the bunch of seals that were lolling about. I ran back to the car for binoculars, and by the time I got there they had moved out further.
We moved on to the Half Moon Bay Brewing Company, where we wanted to sit outside, but were thwarted by the 45-minute wait (despite the fact that at least 3 tables were empty, cleaned, and reset with fresh tableware). We opted for the bar area, where there was no wait, and sat down to a table with a nice view. After waiting about 10 minute for anybody to acknowledge my presence, I went to the bar to ask if we were going to be served, where I was made to wait by the bartender while he finished having a conversation with another group of guests (conversation's fine, but when somebody comes up to actually get some service, and you aren't doing anything important, well, the service is more important). Menus in hand, I thought we were sure to get served...after another five minutes we just left. They missed out on our custom that day, their loss.
We stopped one last time on our way back to the city at a farm stand to get some fresh produce. They had all sorts of organic stuff, but we started getting suspicious when Alison spied some mangoes and bananas, neither of which is grown locally. Apparently only a few things in their stand were actually grown by them, which seems kind of terrible for a farm stand. Another couple got there a few minutes after us, only to be told that the farm stand was "closed." What?
The results of this trip: Pescadero was neat, a nice little town with lots of picnic tables and people sitting around and chatting. Half Moon Bay was not neat, and seemed to be populated by people who couldn't be bothered. Go to Pescadero, skip Half Moon Bay. Especially for next year's Arts and Fun Festival!
It was a beautiful, warm, non-foggy day (note that these terms are all relative; it was warm for here, not necessarily for wherever you are), and we have quickly learned that the direction in which you go depends highly upon these factors; if it is a cold, foggy day, you have to go east, whereas if it's a day like yesterday, you must head toward the ocean and enjoy it while it's enjoyable. So we went west. And south.
Alison wanted to go down to Monterey to see the seahorse exhibit, but the Annual Santa Cruz Mountains Wildfire happens to be this weekend, and we don't want to take the ashmatic lungs through that. However, if you stay close to the city, you're, well, close to the city. What's the perfect compromise? Pescadero, of course!
This town is about an hour away from San Francisco, just a mile or so inland from the ocean, and very typical of small towns in the west. That is to say, everybody knows everybody, there's only a few stores, and the town is full of inveterate racists, misogynists, and homophobes (just kidding about that last one, I'm sure there's only a few of them around!). But that's not where this trip starts.
We totally missed the turn-off to Pescadero, because obviously the giant Pescadero sign was not sufficient. We drove south of the town for a ways, pulling off at one of those brown "Coastal View" signs typical of the Pacific Coast. As far as we could tell, getting to this coastal view entailed traipsing across somebody's property, but there's no arguing with the Man, as they say. Because it was such a strange, out-of-the-way access point, and because it wasn't one of the more developed state beaches, it turned out to be a great, secluded spot. We ate our home-made lunch of peanut butter +/- jelly sandwiches, then went looking in the tide pools. This is one of Alison's favorite activities, searching for anemones and urchins and starfish and crabs and whatnot; "creatures." We saw three starfish (two live, one dead), and got to discover what dead sea urchins look and feel like.
We had the place to ourselves for probably about 30 minutes before anybody else came down, which is probably practically unheard of for the bay area coast on a weekend. Also, these kelp forests were super neat:
After lunch we continued south to visit the Pigeon Point Light Station, the tallest operating lighthouse on the Pacific coast. It was pretty neat, and worth the stop, and the guy in the store was very nice and talkative, but if you're not interested in lighthouses, coastal views, or history, this might not be the place for you. It was built in 1872 and has a hostel onsite that you can stay in.
After the lighthouse we tried going down to the beach right near there, but it was covered in seaweed, flies, and fishermen. We drove back to the north, this time successfully seeing the giant Pescadero sign, and drove inland toward town. Luckily for us, this weekend just happened to be the Pescadero Arts and Fun Festival, a little fair type thing with a bunch of arts and crafts booths, food stands, and a live music stage. It was fun (as advertised), and Alison got some screaming deals on some handbags made out of repurposed fabrics from Ja Ja Ja Purses. The lady in the booth was super nice, and told us all about the purses and such. Hooray for reusing and keeping things out of the landfill! We left after some ice cream in a fresh waffle cone, and visited the business district.
The business district of the town is only a block long, and features one restaurant/bar, a church, an antique store, and a couple markets. We walked past all of the businesses to Pescadero Creek, which was flowing under the bridge. On our way back we stopped at one of the markets and got a steaming hot loaf of garlic artichoke bread (artichokes seem to be a local specialty) from a local bakery and a little thing of soft goat cheese from a local cheesery. We ate them out back behind the store, in a little grassy picnic area next to the creek with some apple trees scattered around. Beautiful. We stopped in at Duarte's, and had a beer at the bar (read the history of the place, it's great...although they don't mention the fire in the early part of the 20th century, during which the fire fighters apparently took special care to save the bar itself from burning; that bar is still in use today).We left Pescadero, picking up the Echo from its spot next to a pumpkin field, and drove back north toward Half Moon Bay. Our Backroads card mentions the Pescadero Marsh, a prime bird-watching spot, but we're not interested in such things and so skipped it. I wanted to get to the Half Moon Bay Brewing Company for dinner. We stopped near the pier in Half Moon Bay when Alison screamed, scaring the driver before explaining that she'd seen a herd of sea creatures out near the pier. She ran over there and got a picture of the bunch of seals that were lolling about. I ran back to the car for binoculars, and by the time I got there they had moved out further.
We moved on to the Half Moon Bay Brewing Company, where we wanted to sit outside, but were thwarted by the 45-minute wait (despite the fact that at least 3 tables were empty, cleaned, and reset with fresh tableware). We opted for the bar area, where there was no wait, and sat down to a table with a nice view. After waiting about 10 minute for anybody to acknowledge my presence, I went to the bar to ask if we were going to be served, where I was made to wait by the bartender while he finished having a conversation with another group of guests (conversation's fine, but when somebody comes up to actually get some service, and you aren't doing anything important, well, the service is more important). Menus in hand, I thought we were sure to get served...after another five minutes we just left. They missed out on our custom that day, their loss.
We stopped one last time on our way back to the city at a farm stand to get some fresh produce. They had all sorts of organic stuff, but we started getting suspicious when Alison spied some mangoes and bananas, neither of which is grown locally. Apparently only a few things in their stand were actually grown by them, which seems kind of terrible for a farm stand. Another couple got there a few minutes after us, only to be told that the farm stand was "closed." What?
The results of this trip: Pescadero was neat, a nice little town with lots of picnic tables and people sitting around and chatting. Half Moon Bay was not neat, and seemed to be populated by people who couldn't be bothered. Go to Pescadero, skip Half Moon Bay. Especially for next year's Arts and Fun Festival!
Bay Area Backroads
Those of you who read my wife's blog are likely familiar with her wildly successful City Walks SF series, the result of a gift from KEC of the deck of City Walks Deck of San Francisco (highly recommended!).
A few weeks ago, while out shopping around, we happened upon the Bay Area Backroads Deck, also from Chronicle Books, our local book publisher. This deck features 50 day trips from central to northern California, stretching from San Luis Obispo to the Oregon border. The deck was put together by the show Bay Area Backroads, a local program that features local trips you can take to see interesting sights in the area. We watched the show a few times before we willfully lost access to the airwaves, and enjoyed it.
As we have done with our City Walks (almost finished!), we are going to try to go through all of these trips, seeing the northern half of our new home state. I'm going to write about each one here, talking about what we saw, and what we liked and didn't like, and what have you. Hopefully it will be worth all of our times.
A few weeks ago, while out shopping around, we happened upon the Bay Area Backroads Deck, also from Chronicle Books, our local book publisher. This deck features 50 day trips from central to northern California, stretching from San Luis Obispo to the Oregon border. The deck was put together by the show Bay Area Backroads, a local program that features local trips you can take to see interesting sights in the area. We watched the show a few times before we willfully lost access to the airwaves, and enjoyed it.
As we have done with our City Walks (almost finished!), we are going to try to go through all of these trips, seeing the northern half of our new home state. I'm going to write about each one here, talking about what we saw, and what we liked and didn't like, and what have you. Hopefully it will be worth all of our times.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Issues of the day
What a goddamn depressing day. Nothing surprising happened today, but it's amazing that we can be ready for something, brace for it, and still when it gets here it just takes the wind out of the sails and backhands our happiness like that dad did to his kid at the baseball game I went to last night (playfully...?).
It starts with waking up alone, something that mercifully happens very rarely to me. My wife is in Hawaii right now on her last few days of pre-job vacation (is it a vacation if it's pre-job? I guess it is, since she technically worked three days last week, but I'm not sure it fits the spirit). She left yesterday morning, gets back Friday, then flies out on Sunday to go to a company gathering for the new job until next Tuesday. This is not the first, nor the longest, time we've spent apart from each other, but I would always rather she be here with me - selfish, I know.
Dear Alison, please don't take the preceding paragraph the wrong way, I know that we both need our alone times sometimes, and I would never want my ramblings to make you feel bad about going on a vacation that I would have gone on too if our situations were reversed!
It's not only sad to wake up alone, but it always takes me a lot longer (something that would amaze Alison, who knows it takes me a long time to wake up as it is), and I hit the alarm for 30 minutes this morning before finally rolling out of bed. Whenever I do this, I inevitably feel ashamed later for the half hour earlier I could have gotten to work, which would have meant a half hour earlier getting home, and a half hour less of time wasted doing nothing, since I'm obviously conscious for that half hour. But actually getting up is so hard.
Today was an astounding day weather-wise. No fog to speak of when I got up, and it was actually warm enough that I was way too warm when I got down to the Castro on my commute this morning for the fleece I was wearing. In fact, it was a waste to carry the thing today, I never wore it again. Beautiful day; I actually took a walk this afternoon for 15 minutes, rather than eating lunch outside or going out.
But at 10:00 the news came in that the Supreme Court of California was upholding Proposition 8, the ban on gay marriage that the voters of California voted in this past election cycle. I think that everybody who was being realistic knew this would happen, but it hurts the same. I'm not going to go over again how much this sucks (not really my place because I'm not one of the many people the ban hurts, except by making me feel guilty for being allowed by law to marry the person I love), or how people who are anti-gay-marriage are jerks and bigots and such, because that's been said thousands and thousands of times. I listened to Forum and Talk of the Nation today, which both had shows on this topic. It seemed that the prognosis was generally good for the future, from the law professor who asserted that the court's opinion would logically lead to the State of California getting out of the marriage game entirely (something I wholeheartedly endorse), to the Governator (a conservative! Well, a California/Hollywood conservative, anyway...), who said that it's only a matter of time at this point before gay marriage is legal and equal (cold comfort to people today, as I'm sure Johnson's Reconstruction was to black people after the Civil War). It also amazed me to hear the opinions of people on both sides of the issue, from the pro-gay-marriage (It's religion, religion, religion) to the anti-gay-marriage (Marriage is for procreation, never mind that people who are biologically unable to have children are allowed to get married, and gay couples are allowed to have children; or, Why do gay people need marriage? Domestic unions are the same! I can't come up with an apt, non-clunky simile here, so please provide your own). I personally think that religion does have a lot to do with it, although a lot of people are likely uncomfortable with the idea, or all their friends are voting against it (I was in Williams, AZ, a few years ago on a job, and the folks from the City who we were working for chose seeing Brokeback Mountain as a jesting allusion to closeted homosexuality in a coworker, as in "I bet you're going to go see Brokeback Mountain [you big fag]!" I think there are likely a lot of similarities between small-town northern Arizona and much of inland California), or any other number of reasons that are not based directly in religion. Incidentally, those same City workers, I'm sure, don't go to church on Sunday, or, if they do, it's only for show.
I also had a ticket tonight to see City Arts and Lectures tonight with Dr. James Hansen. No, not the late, great Muppeteer, but the famous scientist. The one that spoke out against Bush II-era administrative censorship of scientific results. He had an interview-style talk that ranged over the science of climate change (no slides, and a layman audience, so you can imagine the scientist in me was left wanting more; luckily, he's a big nerd and easily intimidated - the scientist in me, not Dr. Hansen), although it dealt a lot with the political side of things. Every time I see one of these talks I get really depressed about the future, because I remember that everything I do as a consumer and user of energy is completely insignificant to actually solving the problem, and that the changes must be large, rapid, and fundamental to actually effect change. That realization then gets passed on to the cynic in me (who, though brooding and kind of an asshole, usually rules the roost), who declares such institutional changes to be pipe dreams that only the blind optimist believes will actually happen before things like this and this and this and this occur and won't somebody please think of the poor penguin babies?! No, we as a race/culture are far too selfish for that (I was thinking on my way home tonight that the "selfish" appellation is something that pretty much anybody on pretty much any side of pretty much any ideological debate could apply to the other side; isn't that exciting!) to ever occur. And that, my friends, is a depressing prospect when you know what the person familiar with climate feedback processes knows. A questioner in the audience mentioned, and Dr. Hansen confirmed, that the projection with all ice gone from Greenland and the Antarctic, as well as all ice caps melting, is about 70 meters, or 250 feet, of course happening over a long time frame, although the rate will continue to accelerate should we do nothing.
I took the subway home to the Castro after the lecture and surfaced to loud, thumping music and news vans and police everywhere, having entirely forgotten in my bout of inner composition on the subway (plus, I'm reading a thoroughly enjoyable book about Ireland right now, much better than the previous one, but more on that another time). I went to the Hot Cookie for a treat, more to avoid the news cameras on the other corner of the intersection than anything else. I did not buy a chocolate penis. They had a DJ on a flatbed truck cranking out some truly inspiring volume, but the party seems to have happened earlier in the night, if it ever got going (I'm sure it did; I've learned that people who live in the Castro do one thing spectacularly well, and that's party). There were maybe 100 people in the street then (around 10pm), and some of them were still dancing away. I wonder now, if I could be as down about things that really don't affect me directly, how can they be dancing when they've just been officially told by the government that they are, in the words of Dr. Harry Newman, "less than?" I guess they're just optimistic, and at least on this issue I can see some light at the end of the tunnel, with the examples set by good old Iowa (how did I ever make fun of you so much as a child, implying that all of your residents wore these things?) and several northeastern States.
Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe a little Baja Fresh or curry in a hurry will brighten my day.
It starts with waking up alone, something that mercifully happens very rarely to me. My wife is in Hawaii right now on her last few days of pre-job vacation (is it a vacation if it's pre-job? I guess it is, since she technically worked three days last week, but I'm not sure it fits the spirit). She left yesterday morning, gets back Friday, then flies out on Sunday to go to a company gathering for the new job until next Tuesday. This is not the first, nor the longest, time we've spent apart from each other, but I would always rather she be here with me - selfish, I know.
Dear Alison, please don't take the preceding paragraph the wrong way, I know that we both need our alone times sometimes, and I would never want my ramblings to make you feel bad about going on a vacation that I would have gone on too if our situations were reversed!
It's not only sad to wake up alone, but it always takes me a lot longer (something that would amaze Alison, who knows it takes me a long time to wake up as it is), and I hit the alarm for 30 minutes this morning before finally rolling out of bed. Whenever I do this, I inevitably feel ashamed later for the half hour earlier I could have gotten to work, which would have meant a half hour earlier getting home, and a half hour less of time wasted doing nothing, since I'm obviously conscious for that half hour. But actually getting up is so hard.
Today was an astounding day weather-wise. No fog to speak of when I got up, and it was actually warm enough that I was way too warm when I got down to the Castro on my commute this morning for the fleece I was wearing. In fact, it was a waste to carry the thing today, I never wore it again. Beautiful day; I actually took a walk this afternoon for 15 minutes, rather than eating lunch outside or going out.
But at 10:00 the news came in that the Supreme Court of California was upholding Proposition 8, the ban on gay marriage that the voters of California voted in this past election cycle. I think that everybody who was being realistic knew this would happen, but it hurts the same. I'm not going to go over again how much this sucks (not really my place because I'm not one of the many people the ban hurts, except by making me feel guilty for being allowed by law to marry the person I love), or how people who are anti-gay-marriage are jerks and bigots and such, because that's been said thousands and thousands of times. I listened to Forum and Talk of the Nation today, which both had shows on this topic. It seemed that the prognosis was generally good for the future, from the law professor who asserted that the court's opinion would logically lead to the State of California getting out of the marriage game entirely (something I wholeheartedly endorse), to the Governator (a conservative! Well, a California/Hollywood conservative, anyway...), who said that it's only a matter of time at this point before gay marriage is legal and equal (cold comfort to people today, as I'm sure Johnson's Reconstruction was to black people after the Civil War). It also amazed me to hear the opinions of people on both sides of the issue, from the pro-gay-marriage (It's religion, religion, religion) to the anti-gay-marriage (Marriage is for procreation, never mind that people who are biologically unable to have children are allowed to get married, and gay couples are allowed to have children; or, Why do gay people need marriage? Domestic unions are the same! I can't come up with an apt, non-clunky simile here, so please provide your own). I personally think that religion does have a lot to do with it, although a lot of people are likely uncomfortable with the idea, or all their friends are voting against it (I was in Williams, AZ, a few years ago on a job, and the folks from the City who we were working for chose seeing Brokeback Mountain as a jesting allusion to closeted homosexuality in a coworker, as in "I bet you're going to go see Brokeback Mountain [you big fag]!" I think there are likely a lot of similarities between small-town northern Arizona and much of inland California), or any other number of reasons that are not based directly in religion. Incidentally, those same City workers, I'm sure, don't go to church on Sunday, or, if they do, it's only for show.
I also had a ticket tonight to see City Arts and Lectures tonight with Dr. James Hansen. No, not the late, great Muppeteer, but the famous scientist. The one that spoke out against Bush II-era administrative censorship of scientific results. He had an interview-style talk that ranged over the science of climate change (no slides, and a layman audience, so you can imagine the scientist in me was left wanting more; luckily, he's a big nerd and easily intimidated - the scientist in me, not Dr. Hansen), although it dealt a lot with the political side of things. Every time I see one of these talks I get really depressed about the future, because I remember that everything I do as a consumer and user of energy is completely insignificant to actually solving the problem, and that the changes must be large, rapid, and fundamental to actually effect change. That realization then gets passed on to the cynic in me (who, though brooding and kind of an asshole, usually rules the roost), who declares such institutional changes to be pipe dreams that only the blind optimist believes will actually happen before things like this and this and this and this occur and won't somebody please think of the poor penguin babies?! No, we as a race/culture are far too selfish for that (I was thinking on my way home tonight that the "selfish" appellation is something that pretty much anybody on pretty much any side of pretty much any ideological debate could apply to the other side; isn't that exciting!) to ever occur. And that, my friends, is a depressing prospect when you know what the person familiar with climate feedback processes knows. A questioner in the audience mentioned, and Dr. Hansen confirmed, that the projection with all ice gone from Greenland and the Antarctic, as well as all ice caps melting, is about 70 meters, or 250 feet, of course happening over a long time frame, although the rate will continue to accelerate should we do nothing.
I took the subway home to the Castro after the lecture and surfaced to loud, thumping music and news vans and police everywhere, having entirely forgotten in my bout of inner composition on the subway (plus, I'm reading a thoroughly enjoyable book about Ireland right now, much better than the previous one, but more on that another time). I went to the Hot Cookie for a treat, more to avoid the news cameras on the other corner of the intersection than anything else. I did not buy a chocolate penis. They had a DJ on a flatbed truck cranking out some truly inspiring volume, but the party seems to have happened earlier in the night, if it ever got going (I'm sure it did; I've learned that people who live in the Castro do one thing spectacularly well, and that's party). There were maybe 100 people in the street then (around 10pm), and some of them were still dancing away. I wonder now, if I could be as down about things that really don't affect me directly, how can they be dancing when they've just been officially told by the government that they are, in the words of Dr. Harry Newman, "less than?" I guess they're just optimistic, and at least on this issue I can see some light at the end of the tunnel, with the examples set by good old Iowa (how did I ever make fun of you so much as a child, implying that all of your residents wore these things?) and several northeastern States.
Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe a little Baja Fresh or curry in a hurry will brighten my day.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Obama Endorses Gay Rights
Today President Obama signed a non-binding resolution on universal rights for gay people. It calls for "decriminilization of homosexuality."
This resolution has been around for awhile, having been put forward on December 19 of last year. This means that the former administration actually resisted getting on board with a statement that it should not be a CRIME to be homosexual. What the hell century is this? Are we North Korea or something?
Somebody out there please try to defend not signing this thing because I really want to know what justification there could be.
This resolution has been around for awhile, having been put forward on December 19 of last year. This means that the former administration actually resisted getting on board with a statement that it should not be a CRIME to be homosexual. What the hell century is this? Are we North Korea or something?
Somebody out there please try to defend not signing this thing because I really want to know what justification there could be.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Some hatin', true.
I'm working on another blog post right now, but I thought I would compile some recent Bush-related articles posted on The Onion*:
Bush Dies Peacefully in His Sleep
Spider Eggs Hatch in Bush's Brain
Single-Engine Cessna Crashes into Bush
Bush's Eyelid Accidentally Nailed to Wall
Bush Dragged Behind Presidential Motorcade For 26 Blocks
Bush Passes Three-Pound Kidney Stone
Crocodile Bites Off Bush's Arm
Bush Tumbles Wildly Down Washington Monument Staircase
I forget sometimes that the ills that have been visited upon our country for the past eight years were foreseen by many. Check out this classic Onion article entitled "Bush: 'Our Long National Nightmare of Peace and Prosperity is Finally Over". This was posted January 17, 2001, just three days before Bush took office. A few quotes:
*I in no way wish pain upon Mr. Bush, although I whole-heartedly endorse him going through a war crimes trial.
Bush Dies Peacefully in His Sleep
Spider Eggs Hatch in Bush's Brain
Single-Engine Cessna Crashes into Bush
Bush's Eyelid Accidentally Nailed to Wall
Bush Dragged Behind Presidential Motorcade For 26 Blocks
Bush Passes Three-Pound Kidney Stone
Crocodile Bites Off Bush's Arm
Bush Tumbles Wildly Down Washington Monument Staircase
I forget sometimes that the ills that have been visited upon our country for the past eight years were foreseen by many. Check out this classic Onion article entitled "Bush: 'Our Long National Nightmare of Peace and Prosperity is Finally Over". This was posted January 17, 2001, just three days before Bush took office. A few quotes:
During the 40-minute speech, Bush also promised to bring an end to the severe war drought that plagued the nation under Clinton, assuring citizens that the U.S. will engage in at least one Gulf War-level armed conflict in the next four years.
Turning to the subject of the environment, Bush said he will do whatever it takes to undo the tremendous damage not done by the Clinton Administration to the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. He assured citizens that he will follow through on his campaign promise to open the 1.5 million acre refuge's coastal plain to oil drilling. As a sign of his commitment to bringing about a change in the environment, he pointed to his choice of Gale Norton for Secretary of the Interior. Norton, Bush noted, has "extensive experience" fighting environmental causes, working as a lobbyist for lead-paint manufacturers and as an attorney for loggers and miners, in addition to suing the EPA to overturn clean-air standards.
Continued Bush: "John Ashcroft will be invaluable in healing the terrible wedge President Clinton drove between church and state."
An overwhelming 49.9 percent of Americans responded enthusiastically to the Bush speech.
"After eight years of relatively sane fiscal policy under the Democrats, we have reached a point where, just a few weeks ago, President Clinton said that the national debt could be paid off by as early as 2012," Rahway, NJ, machinist and father of three Bud Crandall said. "That's not the kind of world I want my children to grow up in."
"We as a people must stand united, banding together to tear this nation in two," Bush said. "Much work lies ahead of us: The gap between the rich and the poor may be wide, be there's much more widening left to do. We must squander our nation's hard-won budget surplus on tax breaks for the wealthiest 15 percent. And, on the foreign front, we must find an enemy and defeat it."
*I in no way wish pain upon Mr. Bush, although I whole-heartedly endorse him going through a war crimes trial.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
You haven't lived...
...until you've heard Arnold Schwarzenegger say "Ponzi Schemes." Also, should any governor ever say this?:
The answer is: this should never be a thing that an elected official says. Thankfully, from the audio feed I was receiving it seems that nobody in the room laughed (this was delivered as part of the State of the State Address).
Conan's sword could not have cleaved our political system in two as cleanly as our own political parties have done.
The answer is: this should never be a thing that an elected official says. Thankfully, from the audio feed I was receiving it seems that nobody in the room laughed (this was delivered as part of the State of the State Address).
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Some life instructions
Picture this. You're driving down a highway and you see a car with a flat tire. Or you come across a car with a dead battery in a parking lot. The owner of the car is Jim Lehrer. You should stop and help him. It's like your prerogative. This is why.
Today our VP Dick was on The Newshour with Jim Lehrer. If you've never watched this show, it's a wonderful news program that I don't catch often enough because I don't watch a lot of TV. Strangely enough, KQED plays the Newshour over the radio every afternoon, which is kind of disconcerting since it isn't set up as a radio show and therefore you lose gestures and graphics and such, but that's neither here nor there. Jim Lehrer is an incredibly fair, patient man, and an extremely well-respected newsman.
Lehrer and Cheney discussed a number of things, and ranged into talking about the economy. The following exchange took place (italics are mine duh):
MR. LEHRER in a fair, patient tone of voice: What about - going back to the original question - about seeing this coming? Isn't that part of the stewardship of the president, of the vice president and of his administration - to see these things coming and try to prevent them from coming, rather than to act after they've happened?
VICE PRES. CHENEY in an asshole tone of voice: Did you see it coming, Jim? You're an expert.
MR. LEHRER winning: I'm not the president or the vice president of the United States.
MR. LEHRER: FTW!
Today our VP Dick was on The Newshour with Jim Lehrer. If you've never watched this show, it's a wonderful news program that I don't catch often enough because I don't watch a lot of TV. Strangely enough, KQED plays the Newshour over the radio every afternoon, which is kind of disconcerting since it isn't set up as a radio show and therefore you lose gestures and graphics and such, but that's neither here nor there. Jim Lehrer is an incredibly fair, patient man, and an extremely well-respected newsman.
Lehrer and Cheney discussed a number of things, and ranged into talking about the economy. The following exchange took place (italics are mine duh):
MR. LEHRER in a fair, patient tone of voice: What about - going back to the original question - about seeing this coming? Isn't that part of the stewardship of the president, of the vice president and of his administration - to see these things coming and try to prevent them from coming, rather than to act after they've happened?
VICE PRES. CHENEY in an asshole tone of voice: Did you see it coming, Jim? You're an expert.
MR. LEHRER winning: I'm not the president or the vice president of the United States.
MR. LEHRER: FTW!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Seriously? Does anybody buy this?
I am in the process of writing another post, but I just saw this bit of news. An interview with our VP Dick. He asserts that nobody at the CIA did anything illegal in interrogations. You can argue, from a certain point of view (which I and other, expert, people would not) that torture is the way to get information. You could argue that it's justified to protect the national security or what have you, although I think the ethical questions overrule any kind of other benefit. But to argue that it's LEGAL? Come now, VP, I know that you think we're stupid, but really. The lying has to stop some day.
What I've been reading
I just finished a book, which is getting annoyingly rare these days. I walk an hour plus every day now (I stopped taking the terrible neighborhood bus because it's terrible) plus 20 minutes on the subway per day. Which seems like a lot of time to spend reading except that it's not the easiest thing in the world to walk and read at the same time. Alison made it a little easier since she bought me a nifty reading light for a pre-Christmas gift. It still takes me about a month to read a book unfortunately. This book I just read is The Dominant Animal: Human Evolution and the Environment by Paul and Anne Ehrlich. Alison had heard of these folks before but of course I'm ignorant and had not.
The book started out very slow...the whole beginning of the book was a lesson on the mechanics of evolution (why we evolved, and stuff). It was a strange way to write this book, with a lot of very technical scientific writing mixed in with language pandering to the completely non-scientific. It felt a little trite to the scientist in me, but also a little muddling to the non-geneticist in me.
It got way more interesting toward the end, with a lot of stats about the human ruination of the environment. I think that everybody should at least read the last half of this book to get a better understanding of our impacts, in case you don't already know. It's leading me to greatly reduce my meat intake (not because of my health, or the high price of good meat, or the cow farts, or the fertilizer in the waterway, or even my lovely wife's aversion to it, but rather simply because it turns out to be an incredibly inefficient way to get our food energy, and would make much more sense in terms of sustainability to eat vegetables instead).
My main conclusion drawn from this book is that there is basically no hope for the human race. I have felt this way for awhile to a certain degree, but the way we're headed in this book seals the deal. People, we are screwed.
Next I'm going to read The World Without Us by Alan Weisman. I hope this book cheers me up by thinking about what will happen to the world once we've destroyed ourselves. Alison already read this book, and wrote a blog post about it.
It's unfortunate that we as a species have decided that it's our right to do whatever we want to to make us happy at the cost of everything else on this planet, but there it is. It's also unfortunate that when we go down we're going to take with us an unprecedented number of species away from this world. The generalists will survive, cockroaches and rats and such. In a world devoid of lots of the species that usually fill the ecological niches present in this world, at least there should be a species explosion to fill them in rapid (geologically) order, yay!
The book started out very slow...the whole beginning of the book was a lesson on the mechanics of evolution (why we evolved, and stuff). It was a strange way to write this book, with a lot of very technical scientific writing mixed in with language pandering to the completely non-scientific. It felt a little trite to the scientist in me, but also a little muddling to the non-geneticist in me.
It got way more interesting toward the end, with a lot of stats about the human ruination of the environment. I think that everybody should at least read the last half of this book to get a better understanding of our impacts, in case you don't already know. It's leading me to greatly reduce my meat intake (not because of my health, or the high price of good meat, or the cow farts, or the fertilizer in the waterway, or even my lovely wife's aversion to it, but rather simply because it turns out to be an incredibly inefficient way to get our food energy, and would make much more sense in terms of sustainability to eat vegetables instead).
My main conclusion drawn from this book is that there is basically no hope for the human race. I have felt this way for awhile to a certain degree, but the way we're headed in this book seals the deal. People, we are screwed.
Next I'm going to read The World Without Us by Alan Weisman. I hope this book cheers me up by thinking about what will happen to the world once we've destroyed ourselves. Alison already read this book, and wrote a blog post about it.
It's unfortunate that we as a species have decided that it's our right to do whatever we want to to make us happy at the cost of everything else on this planet, but there it is. It's also unfortunate that when we go down we're going to take with us an unprecedented number of species away from this world. The generalists will survive, cockroaches and rats and such. In a world devoid of lots of the species that usually fill the ecological niches present in this world, at least there should be a species explosion to fill them in rapid (geologically) order, yay!
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