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Saturday, April 18, 2009

More Supermarket Musings

Unseemly abundance leads to feelings of despair.  Not to get all preachy, but when something like three billion people eke out an existence on a dollar a day, you can find yourself really depressed by the potato section of Your Grocer's Freezer.

Shoestring fries, crinkly fries, steak fries, crinkly steak fries, seasoned steak fries, garlic fries, and, of course, tater tots.  And that's just Ore Ida.

Now, the Solipsist is no ascetic.  He's hardly living in a cave lit by bioluminescent moths and eating nothing but the produce of his own self-fertilized garden.  Glancing around his living room, he sees the fruits of his own labors transubstantiated into items frivolous or at least unnecessary: books, sure, but also DVDs, video games, cutesy knick knacks, and snacks, snacks, snacks (but no Pringles, thank you).  And, in all honesty, despite a somewhat bulging waistline and a somewhat shaky credit rating, he has no real intention to cut back.  But then something like an overabundance of french-fry options brings home the absurdity of modern capitalism, and he has to question his own hypocrisy.

Granted, life should consist of more than just the bare necessities of food and shelter.  Abraham Maslow showed us that when he developed his "Hierarchy of Needs."  Perhaps we can survive as long as our physiological needs are met, but human nature requires more than physiological security to be happy.  One could make a case that many of the "unnecessary" items we spend our time accumulating actually help us satisfy some of the other needs Maslow posited.  Maybe one's video games--especially with their online components--help us satisfy social needs; perhaps our other worldly possessions elevate (however inappropriately) our self-esteem; conceivably, our collections of literature help us achieve self-actualization.

But, sorry, nothing in the Hierarchy calls for an obscene number of choices in frozen french fries.  That kind of thing forces one to examine all the items around one and question what possible needs they satisfy.  Maybe a little introspection is a good thing.

So while the Solipsist will not be so hypocritical as to enjoin the Sloppists to shed themselves of worldly possessions, he will offer this one small suggestion: Once in a while, make your own garlic fries.  A small thing?  Absolutely.  But little by little, we can possibly effect a minor simplification in Our Grocer's Freezers and elsewhere.  And if less energy is being expended in satisfying artificial needs, maybe more can be expended in more worthwhile pursuits.

Every little bit helps.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Troubling Times

If you follow the news, you know that Iran and North Korea are not the United States' favorite foreign playmates.  And they do nothing to make themselves cuddlier.  North Korea, like a bored kid skipping stones into a river, keeps launching semi-functional missiles into the Pacific Ocean; meanwhile, Iran's President insists on saying things like, "The Holocaust never really happened."  (Guess all those Jews and gypsies and homosexuals and commies just skipped off for a quick trip to Mars and never came back.)

At the same time, though, how worried should the US really be about these countries?  North Korea is run by an unpredictable psychotic who could certainly do a lot of damage if he put his mind to it--particularly to South Korea and Japan--but let's face it: If he ever DID launch an attack, North Korea would cease to exist in about a day and a half.  Even China isn't going bail him out.  As for Iran, yes, it is a more functional country than North Korea, but what most people forget is that the president, Ahmadinejad, for all his bluster, really doesn't hold that much actual power.  That power rests with the clerics, who are a little more in touch with the real world; at least, they don't appear to want to pick unnecessary fights.  And from everything you hear, the citizens of Iran are actually largely pro-American.

The Solipsist is reviewing this because he thinks too much attention is being focused on the wrong places.  Have you been paying attention to what's going on in Pakistan?  If not, here's a brief recap:  The Taliban (yes, that Taliban) has basically been granted control over a large province, Swat, in the northwest part of the country.  More disturbingly, they are making large inroads into the Punjab, the most populous province in the country.  They are doing there what they did in Afghanistan in the 1990s: imposing Shariah, terrorizing anyone who is insufficiently devout, whipping (often literally) the poor and the dispossessed into a revolutionary frenzy.  And bear in mind, it is probably in the tribal areas of Pakistan--those largely ungoverned and ungovernable areas on the Afghanistan border--where the remnants of Al Qaeda, including Osama bin Laden, are hiding out.

Oh, and a large proportion of the Pakistani population hates the US.

Oh, and they have nuclear weapons.

YNSHC is not advocating any particular course of action here.  The last thing the US needs is to get involved in yet another war.  But he hopes that the powers-that-be are paying at least as much attention to this very real threat as they are to the illusory or overblown threats we hear so much about.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Pueleve, Rismouse, Diereepr, Defacki. . .and PRINGLE?!?

Google is getting lazy.

Before we get to today's commentary, you may want to refresh your memory by glancing back at "Pueleve, Rismouse, Diereepr, Defacki" (The Solipsist, 1/9/09).  Done?  OK.

So what always impressed the Solipsist about Google's word verification system was how it would choose character combinations that LOOKED like words without actually BEING words.  It stimulated one's aspiring neologist (not as dirty as it sounds, sorry).

Excuse me, YNSHC just needs to pop off this lid (Ssssss-thwok!).  There.

Anyway, the prompts have occasionally been disappointing.   One recent prompt was "flues" (crunch), which, as any reader of Harry Potter can tell you, IS an actual word: the plural of "flue," a passage or duct for smoke in a chimney.  Even worse, just the other day, we were asked to type "Pringle."  (Crunch crunch. . . gulp!)

Pringle!  (Crunch.)  No (gulp), it's not an ACTUAL word, as opposed to "pingle" (an obsolete word for a small piece of enclosed ground) or "springle" (a "springe" (a snare for catching small game or the action associated therewith)) or even "tringle" (a narrow, straight molding).

(Crunchcrunchcrunchcrunchcrunch.)

(Digression: Your assignment: Write a sentence using all three of those words.  The best one will be featured in an upcoming installment of "The Solipsist."  End of digression.)

(Ack!  Cough-cough!  Haaaa-chhhump! Ah!. . . Crunch.)

But it's arguably WORSE than an actual word: It's a CORPOROWORD!  (Hey, that would be a good verification word!)  Has Google gone commercial?!?  (Gulp.)

Well, OK, that's a stupid question.  (Crunch.)  But whatever happened to "Don't be evil"?  (Crunch.)  Can it possibly be considered "good" to promote, however semiconsciously, potato chips?  (Crunch.)  Make that, "potato chips."  (Crunch.)  'Cause they're not ACTUALLY potato chips, y'know?  (Crunch.)  Pringles are, like, some kind of amalgamation of potato parts.  Pringles are to potato chips as McNuggets are to actual chicken breast (research assistance for that analogy provided by WOS).  Not the kind of thing. . . (crunch crunch) that mffrgoommrgle (gulp), excuse me, Google, should be encouraging its users (crrrrunnch). . . especially subliminally (gulp) to consume.

(Burp.)

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Banking Bachelors

How many black suits do you suppose a typical funeral director owns?  Do you think he has just one that he mixes and matches with several shirts and ties, or does he have a whole closet full?

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The New York Times reports that the government is preparing to publicize some of the results of the "stress tests" banks have undergone in recent weeks.  Mainly, this is meant to provide the citizenry with a clear, realistic picture of the bank, so as to avoid the panic that would invariably accompany rumors.  The question: Since this kind of information is not generally made public, should the government release it?

And how! They should make a whole show out of it--something like "The Bachelor," perhaps. Get the CEO's of all the biggest banks together, and Tim Geithner hands each of them a rose if they're financially solvent. Drama builds until only TWO BANKS are left. . . . Who will get the final rose? Will it be State Street? PNC Financial? "Oh, PNC," Geithner will sigh, "you touched me in places that I've never been touched before. Still, I see more of a future with PNC." PNC is handed the rose, State Street sulks out the door, and, over the credits, we see scenes from next weeks episode, wherein the competitors will have to compete to see who can make the tastiest five-course meal for President Obama and the finance ministers from the Group of Eight. Hilarity ensues!

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Your Next Mission (whether you choose to accept it or not)

Today, the Solipsist had a high-powered meeting at the corporate headquarters of the second best blog on the 'net, Questions, Comments, Complaints.  Impressive digs.  Reminiscent of the corporate headquarters of Merrill Lynch (Merrill Lynch TODAY, that is).  Very homey, though.  YNSHC met with the entire staff of QCC--CEO, CFO, COO, President Emerita, and the two interns.  In an effort to keep you all informed, the Solipsist and Emi Ha discussed ways to increase the reach and relevance of our respective outlets.

All of which brings YNSHC to today's thought-provoking question:

Whom does one have to kill or fuck to get named a "Blog of Note"?  Because the Solipsist is willing to do either.  Or both.  If necessary to the same person and in no particular order.  This has now become the primary mission of all Sloppists (whether you knew it or not):  Get us listed on "Blogs of Note."

Because we desperately need more "followers."  Well, not so much, "We"--YOU need for us to have more followers.  Until we get some, you four are just an oddball crew.  If we increase in size, however, you all become CHARTER followers, trailblazers--dare we say, apostles.  (We do!  We do dare!)  You'll be Johns to our Jesus, Nehrus to our Gandhi, Squeaky Frommes to our Charles Manson, Goebbelseses to our Hitler--it doesn't matter; the point is, you will be getting in on the ground floor of a movement!

And when the Solipsist has attained his rightful place as world leader and/or late-night talk-show host, he will not forget the little people who stood by him as he began his ascent.

You're welcome.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Futureburger II

This morning, we saw a commercial for a drug designed to treat Rosacea (a condition whose sufferers have unsightly red blotches on their faces).  The name of this treatment?  Oracea.  So, what do we think of naming drugs to rhyme with the diseases they treat?  "I'm sorry, sir, but your condition is quite serious.  We're going to start you on a course of Schmepatitis."

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Overheard on a TV show: "By 1987, 50% of the serious crimes in New York City were drug-related."  Interestingly, drugs played a part in only 22% of humorous crimes.

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And finally, a bit more about Mental Floss's "New Einsteins":  Another honoree was chef/inventor Homaro Cantu of Moto Restaurant in Chicago.  Cantu is a practitioner of what has come to be called "molecular gastronomy," which basically means cooking as chemistry experiment (and as such is somewhat misleading, as ALL cooking is, frankly, chemistry in action).

Simply put, Molecular Gastronomes (?) do odd things with food.  Thus, at Moto, you find edible menus, doughnut soup, flapjack popsicles, and the like (if such things can be said to have a "like").  One item that stood out for the Solipsist was a marinated pulled-pork dish that looks "exactly like a half-smoked stogie in an ashtray."  Mind you, this is NOT a figurative description, as in "Oh, the presentation of the food was unspeakable!  The marinated pork looked like a half-smoked cigar in an ashtray!"  Rather, it is literal: The chef prepared a dish of pulled pork so as to look like an unfinished Cuban cigar.

Now, the Solipsist will admit that this sounds kind of cool.  At the same time, though, he can't help but wonder what the larger point is.  If the food itself is delicious, as one would hope, then why would the dining experience be enhanced by optical illusions of the food's presentation.  Does delicious spaghetti taste better because it looks like a cheeseburger?  And if this is meant to be "art," then why a HALF-SMOKED cigar?  That sounds neither aesthetically nor culinarily appealing.  And if Cantu is making some sort of artistic-political statement by disguising fine cuisine as refuse, why not take it to its logical extreme?  Why not make a turd-shaped Chicken Kiev (assuming he hasn't already done so)?

Genius has the right to be whimsical, and the Solipsist is not one to condemn artistic ambition.  But somehow, there seems something less than artistically or scientifically honest about doing something because it CAN be done, rather than because it SHOULD be done.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

In Memory of the Unreal

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!! I WAS WATCHING, AND HAD MY MOUTH WIDE OPEN, LIKE WHAT I N THE WORLD!! I WAS BUGGING OUT!!  I LOVE HOUSE!!  HE ROCKS!!  THIS SHOW ROCKS!!  ITS [sic] JUST TO [sic] MAD [sic?!?] KUTNER WAS WRITTEN OFF LIKE A SOAP OPERA STAR. . ;("
--maryannmln


"To those who might be interested in a conspiracy: When Foreman calls the ambulance at Kutner's apartment when Thirteen finds Kutner lying in his bedroom, Foreman describes Kuter's [sic] condition as "a gunshot wound to the right temple."  The gun was laying [sic!!!] by Kutner's left hand."
--longhorn1125


And they go on.

The above are just two of the (as of this writing) 280 comments posted on a "memorial" to the character of Dr. Kutner from House.  (See "Spoilers," 4/8/09.)  (And can you guess what the Solipsist has just figured out how to do?)  Yes, it seems that the death of Kutner has shaken some small portion of the world that has way too much time on its hands.  Apparently, a number of people were under the impression that the actor who played Kutner, Kal Penn, had died in real life and was thus quickly written off the show.  Guess they didn't check Yahoo! or the news to see that, far from dying, he has taken a job in the Obama administration (which we don't yet think of as a sort of living death, but time will tell).

At any rate, this got YNSHC thinking about the lengths people go to in regards to fictional characters.  It's nothing new.  Arthur Conan Doyle was sick of Sherlock Holmes, and he killed him off, only to bring him back in response to public outcry.  The "deaths" of Superman and Captain America were treated as newsworthy items in the most prestigious periodicals.  Even by these standards, though, the reaction to Kutner's death seems a bit overblown.  It's not like the show is "Kutner, MD."  It's like MASH enthusiasts creating a fansite for Father Mulcahy or something!

Hold on a second.

Never mind: Mulcahy's War.

No wonder the terrorists hate us.

One can't help but remember the outpouring of emotion over Princess Diana in this context.  Were people mourning a real person?  A mother?  An activist?  Or were they simply memorializing a fairy princess?  Does it matter?  Maybe people just grow invested in these characters--even when these characters are real people--because of their admirable qualities.  When these characters are taken from them--especially suddenly and unexpectedly--people feel the need to mourn.  Maybe, as is true when dealing with the "tragedy" of a favorite sports team's loss, people prepare themselves for actual tragedies by going through the motions for strangers or fictional characters.

The problem there, though, is that it's an unrealistic preparation.  Sherlock Holmes and Superman, of course, came back from the dead.  And presumably Kutner could turn out to have a twin brother who's ALSO a doctor--in case the Obama gig doesn't work out.  So are people really engaging in a collective catharsis, or is it more like mass hysteria?

RIP, Dr. Kutner.  Forgive the Solipsist if he doesn't get all choked up.