On the Travel Channel's show "Man Vs. Food," Adam Richman, a jovial New Yorker who weighs nowhere near as much as you would expect, goes around the country, sampling local favorite restaurants. Unlike most foodie programming, the show's focus is not so much food quality but quantity. You know how some restaurants will offer customers a free meal if they can finish the "Bathtub Special"--which turns out to be, like, 15 pounds of franks and beans? Well, Adam goes around and takes on these challenges.
We have to admit, as daunting as these challenges are, many of them LOOK downright delicious. And the running gag here at Solipsist HQ is that, when the episode's challenge is revealed, we turn to WOS and say, "Oh, we could do THAT one." WOS just nods and says, "Sure."
Now, we should also mention that WOS herself has a certain "specialty dish": Kielbasa casserole. Basically, the ingredients call for two pounds of polska kielbasa, baked in a casserole dish with about two pounds of potatoes, a dozen hard-boiled eggs, and about a pound of sour cream. With just the right amount of seasoning, we're talking about the most delicious comfort food you could imagine.
The other night, WOS announced that she was going to make kielbasa casserole, and we said that THAT, in fact, was probably something we could do a "Man Vs. Food"-type challenge on. We know from experience that we can pack away at least a couple of heaping platefuls of casserole, and still have a desire for more. We usually just stop after two because, after all, we have to leave some for WOS and SOS. WOS, of course, was skeptical, but we were insistent.
"All right," she said. "I'll make TWO casseroles, one just for you. Put your mouth where your mouth is."
So she did.
We plowed through the first plate with no problem, and we were still cruising through the second plate. Midway through the third plate, though, we hit the wall. We considered our options: Swallow our pride--which we could still conceivably keep down--or swallow more casserole, which, to be honest, would probably have only the briefest of stays in our innards before returning to the world above in a most horrific fashion.
Well, Nation, we are sorry to say that, delicious as it was, in the other night's battle of Solipsist Vs. Food. . . . Food won!
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Napping for Justice!
We feel for the Belorussian people. They live under a semi-repressive regime, which takes a less-than-tolerant attitude toward protesters. Activists have therefore developed creative ways to express solidarity with each other and disrupt the equilibrium of the state. Many of these actions take the form of "flash-mob"-type events, organized over the internet, calling upon people to gather at a particular place at a specified time and do. . . something. At 8:00 pm on Wednesday, for example, in a main square in the capitol, dozens (or perhaps hundreds--who knows?) of cellphone alarms went off simultaneously!
Yeah, that was it.
To add insult to apathy, any potential cell-phone cacophony was pretty much drowned out by ordinary traffic noise. All of which raises the tree-in-a-forest-esque question: If nobody knows for sure whether a protest is occurring, does it actually make a noise? And, to be sure, the authorities, who knew about the planned action were similarly befuddled. Should they go around arresting anyone whose cellphone rang at 8:00 PM? What if it was just Aunt Blini calling to ask someone to pick up more Rivkas? (That should probably be the other way around.)
And that, of course, is the point. The protesters did, indeed, accomplish something. They got the attention of the authorities and, since the authorities did ultimately devote extra resources to monitoring the crowd and, of course, arresting some of the protesters, one could say that the flash mob disrupted the powers-that-be.
But doesn't a protest have to be somewhat unambiguous in order to qualify as a protest? 'Cause, if not, we have plenty of things that we're upset about, and we would like to hereby announce the following protest actions we shall undertake forthwith:
We are eating pizza to protest anti-gay-marriage initiatives nationwide!
We refuse to eat Brussels sprouts until there are free and fair elections in North Korea!
We are going to play "Jungle Jewels" in support of animal rights!
And now, we are going to take a nap to express our utter contempt for partisan political posturing!
See you tomorrow!
Solipsistography
"Sound of Post-Soviet Protest: Claps and Beeps"
Yeah, that was it.
To add insult to apathy, any potential cell-phone cacophony was pretty much drowned out by ordinary traffic noise. All of which raises the tree-in-a-forest-esque question: If nobody knows for sure whether a protest is occurring, does it actually make a noise? And, to be sure, the authorities, who knew about the planned action were similarly befuddled. Should they go around arresting anyone whose cellphone rang at 8:00 PM? What if it was just Aunt Blini calling to ask someone to pick up more Rivkas? (That should probably be the other way around.)
And that, of course, is the point. The protesters did, indeed, accomplish something. They got the attention of the authorities and, since the authorities did ultimately devote extra resources to monitoring the crowd and, of course, arresting some of the protesters, one could say that the flash mob disrupted the powers-that-be.
But doesn't a protest have to be somewhat unambiguous in order to qualify as a protest? 'Cause, if not, we have plenty of things that we're upset about, and we would like to hereby announce the following protest actions we shall undertake forthwith:
We are eating pizza to protest anti-gay-marriage initiatives nationwide!
We refuse to eat Brussels sprouts until there are free and fair elections in North Korea!
We are going to play "Jungle Jewels" in support of animal rights!
And now, we are going to take a nap to express our utter contempt for partisan political posturing!
See you tomorrow!
Solipsistography
"Sound of Post-Soviet Protest: Claps and Beeps"
Thursday, July 14, 2011
We're Mad as Hell, and We're Not Going to Take It Any More!
Oh, it's on, Nation! It. Is. ON!
This morning, not ONE WEEK after we told you that "Breaking Bad" is quite simply the best show on television, the Emmy nominations came out. And, as if to mock the Solipsist--everyone's favorite pastime, to be sure--the Emmy nominators treated "Breaking Bad" like the Oscars used to treat Steven Spielberg: NOTHING! No nomination for best drama or best writing or best directing--even multiple-Emmy winner Bryan Cranston got the shaft!
Well, people, this will not stand! We know that the Emmys--like all awards, really--are really political and we should not be offended by the inexplicable lack of any semblance of taste on the part of its nominating committee.
(DIGRESSION: We mean no offense to the other nominees, including "Dexter," "Mad Men," "Game of Thrones," "Boardwalk Empire," and "The Good Wife"--actually, scratch that, we DO mean offense to "The Good Wife." We've never seen it, but no way in hell is it better than "Breaking Bad." EOD)
Still, when a masterpiece like "Breaking Bad" gets dissed so completely, we cannot help but rail against what Monty Python might call the "typical Philistine pig ignorance we've come to expect from you non-creative garbage." If "Breaking Bad" is not worthy of consideration, then there is no sense whatsoever in claiming that these awards reflect anything other than the crass, inscrutable preferences of a group of troglodytic mouth-breathers who should have their licenses to think--or live!--revoked. Flogging is too good for these morons! If stupidity were a fuel, these folks could power the entire West Coast electrical grid until the second coming! If bad taste were a Nobel category, these loutish wormspawn would be on their way to Sweden! If--
What's that?
Oh.
Heh. Ahem.
We've just been informed that, because of its broadcasting schedule, "Breaking Bad" was not eligible for the Emmys at this time. The season that begins on Sunday will be in the running next year.
Well. So. . . . Anyway. . . . How about that Hugh Laurie?
This is so humiliating.
This morning, not ONE WEEK after we told you that "Breaking Bad" is quite simply the best show on television, the Emmy nominations came out. And, as if to mock the Solipsist--everyone's favorite pastime, to be sure--the Emmy nominators treated "Breaking Bad" like the Oscars used to treat Steven Spielberg: NOTHING! No nomination for best drama or best writing or best directing--even multiple-Emmy winner Bryan Cranston got the shaft!
Well, people, this will not stand! We know that the Emmys--like all awards, really--are really political and we should not be offended by the inexplicable lack of any semblance of taste on the part of its nominating committee.
(DIGRESSION: We mean no offense to the other nominees, including "Dexter," "Mad Men," "Game of Thrones," "Boardwalk Empire," and "The Good Wife"--actually, scratch that, we DO mean offense to "The Good Wife." We've never seen it, but no way in hell is it better than "Breaking Bad." EOD)
Still, when a masterpiece like "Breaking Bad" gets dissed so completely, we cannot help but rail against what Monty Python might call the "typical Philistine pig ignorance we've come to expect from you non-creative garbage." If "Breaking Bad" is not worthy of consideration, then there is no sense whatsoever in claiming that these awards reflect anything other than the crass, inscrutable preferences of a group of troglodytic mouth-breathers who should have their licenses to think--or live!--revoked. Flogging is too good for these morons! If stupidity were a fuel, these folks could power the entire West Coast electrical grid until the second coming! If bad taste were a Nobel category, these loutish wormspawn would be on their way to Sweden! If--
What's that?
Oh.
Heh. Ahem.
We've just been informed that, because of its broadcasting schedule, "Breaking Bad" was not eligible for the Emmys at this time. The season that begins on Sunday will be in the running next year.
Well. So. . . . Anyway. . . . How about that Hugh Laurie?
This is so humiliating.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
We Knew Politicians Were Feckless, But Yeesh!
We confess, we don't fully understand all the foofaraw, currently roiling Washington and Wall Street, about the nation's debt ceiling. Analysts and pundits regularly trot out the explanation that the debt ceiling is roughly equivalent to a credit limit; hitting the ceiling is akin to maxing out one's Visa. The major difference being that, when our country hits its debt ceiling, apparently all it has to do is vote itself a credit increase. Try THAT with American Express! ("Uh, yeah, I'm at Saks Fifth Avenue, and my card's been declined. I don't understand. I voted myself an extra $5,000 credit line before I left the house.")
In other words, the debt ceiling is ultimately symbolic. People fear all manner of financial catastrophe should the US default on its debts, and for all we know, they may be right. Even if catastrophe occurs, though, it seems that the powers-that-be would simply need to say, "OK, you got us, we'll raise the debt limit." Catastrophe eliminated.
Today's entry, though, is not about the debt limit, as such, but about the latest maneuver to solve the problem.
Despite the best (?) efforts of President Obama and Joe Biden and John Boehner and Eric Cantor, it's looking more and more like Congress will fail to pass legislation raising the debt ceiling before August 2 (financial D-Day). Rather than accept failure, though, the Senate Minority Leader, Mitch McConnell (R.-KY--the state, not the sexual lubricant), has proposed that Congress essentially empower President Obama to raise the debt limit himself--without, as many Republicans have demanded, presenting a plan for offsetting spending cuts. Congress would then vote on the President's proposal. While they could still certainly vote against raising the limit, the President would then presumably just veto that action, after which it is unlikely that Congress would muster the votes to overturn the veto. Both the White House and the Speaker of the House have expressed interest in this plan.
So, let's get this straight: The leaders of the Republican Party, who have essentially spent the last two years vituperating about how Barack Obama was a closet socialist dictator bent on increasing his power and unilaterally imposing his will on the country--these same people are now considering a plan whereby they would. . . increase Barack Obama's power and allow him to unilaterally impose his will on the country?
At the risk of eliciting a ear-splitting "Duh!": Do these people stand for anything?!? We understand McConnell's motivation: He knows he and Boehner can't corral the most vocal members of their right-wing majority to support any sort of compromises with the anti-Christ Obama. Fearing for his and his fellow Republican's electoral prospects if they become known as a party willing to sacrifice national well-being for ideological purity, McConnell wants to wash his hands of the whole thing: Let Obama take the heat. Not that Obama will face much heat for raising the debt ceiling, as those most opposed to such action would be unlikely to vote for Obama anyway. But still, what's the point of even having a separate legislature if they are so scared of electoral consequences that they abdicate their responsibilities to, y'know, legislate--at least about anything more controversial than, say, naming a national flower or passing non-binding resolutions to declare that corn dogs are tasty?
What's so bad about being voted out of office, anyway? You become a highly paid lobbyist, a Sunday-morning talk-show pontificator, or a contestant on "Dancing with the Stars." Maybe all three. And if you're voted out of office because you actually took a stand on something, maybe you do all three of those things without that gut-gnawing sense of shame and missed opportunities.
Do your job, McConnell. Do your job, and face the consequences.
Is it any wonder Congress is held in contempt?
Solipsistography
"Debt Talk Mired, Leader for G.O.P. Proposes Option"
In other words, the debt ceiling is ultimately symbolic. People fear all manner of financial catastrophe should the US default on its debts, and for all we know, they may be right. Even if catastrophe occurs, though, it seems that the powers-that-be would simply need to say, "OK, you got us, we'll raise the debt limit." Catastrophe eliminated.
Today's entry, though, is not about the debt limit, as such, but about the latest maneuver to solve the problem.
Despite the best (?) efforts of President Obama and Joe Biden and John Boehner and Eric Cantor, it's looking more and more like Congress will fail to pass legislation raising the debt ceiling before August 2 (financial D-Day). Rather than accept failure, though, the Senate Minority Leader, Mitch McConnell (R.-KY--the state, not the sexual lubricant), has proposed that Congress essentially empower President Obama to raise the debt limit himself--without, as many Republicans have demanded, presenting a plan for offsetting spending cuts. Congress would then vote on the President's proposal. While they could still certainly vote against raising the limit, the President would then presumably just veto that action, after which it is unlikely that Congress would muster the votes to overturn the veto. Both the White House and the Speaker of the House have expressed interest in this plan.
So, let's get this straight: The leaders of the Republican Party, who have essentially spent the last two years vituperating about how Barack Obama was a closet socialist dictator bent on increasing his power and unilaterally imposing his will on the country--these same people are now considering a plan whereby they would. . . increase Barack Obama's power and allow him to unilaterally impose his will on the country?
At the risk of eliciting a ear-splitting "Duh!": Do these people stand for anything?!? We understand McConnell's motivation: He knows he and Boehner can't corral the most vocal members of their right-wing majority to support any sort of compromises with the anti-Christ Obama. Fearing for his and his fellow Republican's electoral prospects if they become known as a party willing to sacrifice national well-being for ideological purity, McConnell wants to wash his hands of the whole thing: Let Obama take the heat. Not that Obama will face much heat for raising the debt ceiling, as those most opposed to such action would be unlikely to vote for Obama anyway. But still, what's the point of even having a separate legislature if they are so scared of electoral consequences that they abdicate their responsibilities to, y'know, legislate--at least about anything more controversial than, say, naming a national flower or passing non-binding resolutions to declare that corn dogs are tasty?
What's so bad about being voted out of office, anyway? You become a highly paid lobbyist, a Sunday-morning talk-show pontificator, or a contestant on "Dancing with the Stars." Maybe all three. And if you're voted out of office because you actually took a stand on something, maybe you do all three of those things without that gut-gnawing sense of shame and missed opportunities.
Do your job, McConnell. Do your job, and face the consequences.
Is it any wonder Congress is held in contempt?
Solipsistography
"Debt Talk Mired, Leader for G.O.P. Proposes Option"
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Graceless
We have come to the conclusion that Nancy Grace deserves a special spot in at least the seventh circle of Hell. We realize we are not alone in that judgment, but before today we had never watched her show and had given very little thought to the woman one way or another.
Here's what happened:
We were sitting in a pharmacy, waiting for a prescription to be filled. Nancy Grace's show was playing on the TV above the shelves of over-the-counter stomach remedies and condoms. We were listening to an iPod, so we couldn't hear what we can only assume is La Grace's banshee-like screech, but the closed captioning was on. Grace was reporting on the imminent release from jail of Casey Anthony, the woman recently acquitted of killing her two-year-old daughter Caylee. Every time she mentioned Casey Anthony, though, Grace did not call her 'Ms. Anthony' or 'Anthony' or even 'Casey.' She used an altogether different appellation.
Tot Mom.
Tot Mom?!? Seventh circle!
This offends on a couple of levels. First, grammatically, there's the suggestion that Casey Anthony is somehow a "tot" who is also a "mom," a la, "teen mom" or "single mom." We will accept, though, that the phrasing is an acceptable way to describe the mom OF a tot, as "Octomom" describes the mother of an octopus and "soccer mom" describes the mother of a soccer ball.
So let's move on to the more egregious sins against all manner of propriety. Casey Anthony is no "Tot Mom." Angelina Jolie is a "Tot Mom." Our FFB Emi Ha is a "Tot Mom." Our former roommate is a "Tot Mom." To be a "Tot Mom," one needs actually to BE the mother of a, y'know, TOT! Casey Anthony, to say the least, has forfeited the right to such a name. And to use any sort of appellation that connotes humanity upon this woman who--acquitted or not--showed a blatant disregard for anything like maternal feeling is an offense against good taste.
But Nancy Grace took tastelessness to a whole new level when, not satisfied to use the term once, she kept on saying it!!! As in, "We are counting down the minutes until the Tot Mom is released from jail. . . " "We're speaking live with the former roommate of Tot Mom. . . ." "So what's Tot Mom's next move going to be. . . ." What this tells us is that Nancy Grace actually thought she was being clever! Like "Tot Mom" could, in fact, become the new "Octomom," and maybe Grace would get a cut of all the t-shirt sales.
Ah, screw it, eighth circle.
Image from issues.cc
Monday, July 11, 2011
People Who Treat People
Out of Roanoke comes news that Virginia Tech Carilion is one of a handful of medical schools assessing applicants based on their people skills in addition to the standard measures of pre-med acumen (like knowing the names of all the muscles and the fact that the pancreas does not actually exist).
In all seriousness (well, most seriousness), this seems like a worthy innovation. For one thing, numerous studies have attributed a large percentage of preventable deaths faulty communications between medical team members, as well as between doctors and patients. Medical-school applicants who display strong interpersonal skills may thus provide significant improvements to the overall healthcare system.
We've long felt that communication skills are often undervalued. In our own tutoring program, we find that the best tutors are not necessarily the 4.0 students, but those with the easiest interpersonal manner. Indeed, when it comes to recruitment, we are always happier to find a "B" student with people skills than an "A" student who's all about "the work." The "people-people" (people-persons?) will almost always have better results.
The only point of concern is that the medical school may turn away qualified applicants who may not perform well enough at their interpersonal "tests." While it may be difficult for an introvert to become a social butterfly, we would hope that people who have displayed the intellectual aptitude and commitment to prepare for a career in medicine would be afforded an opportunity to improve the people skills that will make them great doctors, rather than being summarily turned away.
Besides, if bedside manner had always been a pre-requisite for becoming a doctor, we would never have enjoyed "House."
Solipsistography
"New for Aspiring Doctors, the People Skills Test"
In all seriousness (well, most seriousness), this seems like a worthy innovation. For one thing, numerous studies have attributed a large percentage of preventable deaths faulty communications between medical team members, as well as between doctors and patients. Medical-school applicants who display strong interpersonal skills may thus provide significant improvements to the overall healthcare system.
We've long felt that communication skills are often undervalued. In our own tutoring program, we find that the best tutors are not necessarily the 4.0 students, but those with the easiest interpersonal manner. Indeed, when it comes to recruitment, we are always happier to find a "B" student with people skills than an "A" student who's all about "the work." The "people-people" (people-persons?) will almost always have better results.
The only point of concern is that the medical school may turn away qualified applicants who may not perform well enough at their interpersonal "tests." While it may be difficult for an introvert to become a social butterfly, we would hope that people who have displayed the intellectual aptitude and commitment to prepare for a career in medicine would be afforded an opportunity to improve the people skills that will make them great doctors, rather than being summarily turned away.
Besides, if bedside manner had always been a pre-requisite for becoming a doctor, we would never have enjoyed "House."
Solipsistography
"New for Aspiring Doctors, the People Skills Test"
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Pasta Perfect
Yesterday, a New York hero achieved a historic milestone. While many knew the day would come, no one could predict that yesterday would be that day. We offer congratulations to this great representative of the Big Apple!
What? Oh, yeah, the Yankees' Derek Jeter got his 3,000th hit, too.
But what we are speaking of here is the Solipsist (obviously). Yesterday, we did something that we had never done before, and that some doubted we would ever achieve.
It all began innocently enough, an evening like any other: We graciously offered to prepare dinner, mainly because "dinner" was to be spaghetti and meat sauce, which is well within our skill set. Anyway, we started boiling the water, browned the beef, dumped in the sauce, stirred it all up, then poured the spaghetti into the pot. When everything was finished, we dished out the spaghetti, and realized what we had accomplished:
WE HAD PREPARED PRECISELY ENOUGH PASTA FOR THREE DISHES!
We know! Unprecedented! In twenty-plus years of occasional pasta-boiling, we had always made too little or, much more likely, far too much, spaghetti. The pasta always fakes us out: It looks so unassuming when it's all stiff and fistfulled, and then it expands into this kudzu-like mass of gut-stuffing carbohydrates! Sure, we put away the leftovers, but they never get eaten. Images of pasta-deprived, starving children in Appalachia haunt our dreams for weeks afterward.
Last night, though, we stared awestruck, like Balboa at the Pacific, at the empty colander and the perfectly apportioned dinners. We had done it! WOS could barely restrain her glee. The Solipsist had triumphed!
What? Oh, yeah, the Yankees' Derek Jeter got his 3,000th hit, too.
But what we are speaking of here is the Solipsist (obviously). Yesterday, we did something that we had never done before, and that some doubted we would ever achieve.
It all began innocently enough, an evening like any other: We graciously offered to prepare dinner, mainly because "dinner" was to be spaghetti and meat sauce, which is well within our skill set. Anyway, we started boiling the water, browned the beef, dumped in the sauce, stirred it all up, then poured the spaghetti into the pot. When everything was finished, we dished out the spaghetti, and realized what we had accomplished:
WE HAD PREPARED PRECISELY ENOUGH PASTA FOR THREE DISHES!
We know! Unprecedented! In twenty-plus years of occasional pasta-boiling, we had always made too little or, much more likely, far too much, spaghetti. The pasta always fakes us out: It looks so unassuming when it's all stiff and fistfulled, and then it expands into this kudzu-like mass of gut-stuffing carbohydrates! Sure, we put away the leftovers, but they never get eaten. Images of pasta-deprived, starving children in Appalachia haunt our dreams for weeks afterward.
Last night, though, we stared awestruck, like Balboa at the Pacific, at the empty colander and the perfectly apportioned dinners. We had done it! WOS could barely restrain her glee. The Solipsist had triumphed!
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