Similar to the decrease in quality of water, as I may have mention, when transitioning from not college to college, there is a decrease in the quality of the food. My dad is vegan cook, and makes the most amazing meals, which at the time of eating them, I under-appreciated. Now that I am in college, I appreciate them to their full effect, and the chance of eating some home cooking may be the most anticipated part of my visits home during breaks. However, I have developed a coping mechanism for this withdrawal. Of the food I now dine upon, I have become a connoisseur, and appreciate each item far beyond the intended level of enjoyment the culinary masters at Trader Joe's frozen food lab thought possible. Take for example, cereal. Pre-college it was just breakfast- I ate it because I was hungry, and there was an auspicious lack of pie and cake for my morning meal. But now, I eating cereal in the morning can be the best part of my entire day. Its not just food- their is a whole mental state that defines cereal, or breakfast in general. Breakfast is usually define as a time for a certain task- eating, and less often, but often more interestingly defined as a time for not a certain task- homework. A guilt free time to not do homework, even if there is a major paper due in 20 minutes. I mean, what am I going to do? Not eat the most important meal of the day!? Not on my watch. Another thing I love to do is read- lots and lots of books, however when I have tons of homework to do, i feel guilty reading. But not when I'm eating! So I eat and read, read and eat- one and the same. I salivate when I see books, such is my mental conditioning. This time of eating is thus sacred, and just as one would not insult the lowly dung beetle in front of a pharaoh, you would not debase the lowly bowl of cereal in front of me. My cereal of choice is always the same- Autumn Wheat. It is like shredded wheat, or rather unlike as it is lighter, crunchier, sweeter, tastier and better. When it comes to cereal, it must be crunchy, not soggy, not even a little bit. If you call me in the morning, and I act less then completely gracious, chances are I am sitting at my desk, book open in front of me, and my crunchy cereal slowly drowning a horrific death in the milk I just poured on them. To maximize crunchiness, I eat several tiny bowls of cereal for breakfast rather than just one big one.
Of course, you can infer that my dinner is just as sacred and ritualistic. I have eaten countless frozen burritos, and after a while I developed exact ways of preparing them. 1st, wash dirty plate. Slit open the plastic cover with a fork. Flip cardboard carton with burritos upsidedown onto plate- to retain moisture (nothing like a leathery burrito). Microwave for either 4 or 5.5 minutes, depending on if it was frozen or refrigerated. Read book while microwaving. carry finished burrito up to room and consume. Use fork to slit open first burrito (2/package). Scoop out contents with fork, savoring individual black beans. Neatly cut up tortilla and consume. Repeat for second burrito. Deposit dirty dish on shelf. Repeat in 24 hours.
AH- forgot the bit about the tea. I'll get to that latter
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
The Dirt Pile
My parents currently live in a condo, and ~2 years before that, a townhome, and ~2 years before that a different condo, however ~2 years before that, we all lived in a house! It was a real house, with 4 separate walls, and 3/4 acre of land. But this is not about the house. It is about the dirt pile. It began when I was in the age range of about preschool to 3rd grade. Now, bear (is that the right "bear"?) with me, because I this happened along time ago, and the details may be a bit fuzzy, or outright fabrications.
The best thing in the world, which occupied the vast majority of my me and my brothers time, was the dirt pile. it was the most entertaining entity in the world. What was the dirt pile you may ask? Actauly, you probably would not ask that, as the name is painfully self explanatory, and a Hallmark to the unimaginative properties of my childhood mind. But you should still ask, because the dirt pile was not, as the name implies, a pile of dirt.
Quite the opposite in fact.
It was a hole- in the dirt.
Now, I honestly do not know how we came to naming our favorite play thing so inaccurately, but for whatever reason it stuck. My leading theory is we used to play on a pile of dirt, and then discovered that playing in the hole from which the dirt was dug was much more fun (I have no such memory, but then again I am probably not a reliable source for know what I don't know)
Okay, so its a hole in ground. Roughly circular, four feet in diameter, about a foot and half deep, with sloping walls. My brother and I could comfortably sit in the hole, oblivious to the muck, without it being crowded.
The possibilities were limited only by our imaginations, which were mostly filled with horrific disasters, including, but not limited to, land slides, floods, meteorites and dinosaur ambushes.
At the time, we spent all of our pocket money on little plastic dinos sold at a local health food store. With these we acted out the various prehistoric dramas involving a herbivores life in the cretaceous period- getting eaten, getting caught in landslides, getting eaten, getting stuck in tar pits, getting eaten, being washed away by floods, getting eaten, and so forth. They would flee around the craggy rims of the dirt piles, leaving 3 toed footprints in the mud for the raptor pack to follow. One time, a couple plant eaters got caught in a cave in when they explored a cavern, and we forgot they were there until weeks later we were digging and came across the pocket of air and rescued them.
The dirt pile became exponentially more fun when you added water. Unfortunately it became experientially less fun for our parents when water was added, and we would spend hours begging to use the hose to fill the pile with water, only to have out parents say we could have one bucket full- no matter we had a way of accidentally leaving the hose running while we wandered off in search of something innocent to do. We had endless fun digging little canals and holding ponds, and water falls, and dams to hold the water, with slowly eroding jetties with dinos trapped on them. With the high pressure nozzle, you could bore a hole into the side of the pile, and we had fanciful ideas of filling the holes with baking soda and vinegar to blow up the mountain side- in hind sight in surprised neither of us turned into mining experts. The next day, when the water had sunk into the ground, there would be glorious deposit of mud to play with- a powerful building material when combined with grass clippings.
At the end of the day, the main result was that we had once again completely trashed out clothes, to our parents chagrin. One time, when were allowed only a gallon of water, and we "forgot" to turn of the hose, and soaked out shorts in mud, like we promised we wouldn't, we snuck into our room via the totally not raptor proof sliding glass door, and changed into new shorts of the same design, and deposited the evidence in the washing machine.
I recently saw a PBS program on giant mining machines, and was awed by a simulated mining environment, where trainees for the big expensive mining shovels get to practice in a scaled down room filled with dirt and scaled down machines, hooked up to full sized control booths.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Water Fountain Connoisseur
One of the biggest changes I noticed, and subsequently had the most difficulty adjusting to upon my transition from living at home to living at MIT was the profound lack of cold water. Even before college I really enjoyed a tall glass of cold water, downed in one long gulp. We had a spigot in our fridge that always delivered ice cold, pure, delicious water. I'm from Oregon, and the water tastes really good there. I discovered this was not the case when I arrived in Cambridge in the middle of august. Now, in Oregon, even the tap water is cold and tasty. Upon returning to my dorm room after a hot day, I went to fill a mug with cold water. I stood at the sink letting the water run over my hand as it switched from warm to luke-warm, where it stayed. No cold water! Oh no! Well, I filled my mug anyway- I was thirsty. Then I tasted the water- horrific. Hardly worth drinking, and left a bad taste in my mouth. I spent a good 15 minutes visiting all possible ice dispensing units in the building, and finally got a cold cup of water, which mostly made up for the taste. With that said, I drank soy milk until I got used to the water, which I now fine no problem with. But that still left the issue of cold water. Where oh where could it be? Eureka- just at the air on the first floor of my dorm is air conditioned, so is the water fountain- for a while this was my only source of the precious resource- a fountain of ice cold manna that chilled my teeth to the bone. Slowly, like desert nomad, I found and cataloged the various other sources of chilled water on campus. I would have to say my favorite, and one of the first I discovered, is on the second floor of a building I travel through often, and I often go out of the way to cross the building on the second floor for this reason. The water is almost the coldest water on campus, and has high pressure so you don't feel like you have to inhale the spigot to get a decent mouthful. If a random passerby asked me where building 9 was, I would have little idea, but if they wanted to know the 3 closest water fountains to my multivariable calc class, in order of proximity, pressure, and temperature, i'm the one to ask. When ever I take a new route through the maze of buildings, I sample the water fountains on the way, making mental way-points of their location for future use. I can almost tell you how cold and high pressure a fountain will be without tasting it- I see clues like how near it is to an outer wall, patterns in which design has the highest pressure, and if the metal is slightly fogged with condensation from the cold elixir in its pipes. Often one can feel the chill through the metal button, or if it has a dedicated plumbing system. (Plumbing- comes from plumbum, latin for lead, because pipes used to be made from lead- hopefully none of those at MIT)
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Worst night of my life
So a couple months ago I had open heart surgery, which wasn't fun- actauly it sucks. But what I'm guessing most people don't know is why it sucks. If someone were to ask me, "Whats the worst part? I bet its right after surgery, when your in alot of pain, or that first day when you can't get out of bed"
NO
The worst part is the 4th night. The night before I go home actauly. The forth night is precipitated by the 4th day, which is basically the first day they start bringing you Tylenol as a pain killer, because you are no longer in pain, and in fact everything is fantastic, I'm walking around all over the place, playing games, watching movies, and all that. Thats the calm before the storm. Its always lightest before dusk.The night starts like this, roughly. My nurse says that she will come in and give me some meds at 10:00 pm and at 6:00 am, that way I get 8 hours of sleep uninterrupted- the irony. After watching some T.V. I go to sleep- wrong. There is a hammering and pounding from the room adjacent like a construction crew was setting up to rip out the dry wall, but were interrupted by a steel-toe-booted rhino with a jackhammer. I actauly tolerate noise very well when trying to sleep, but my mom does not- if it had instead been a slipper footed kola bear, she still might not have been able to sleep. In any case, she went into the hallway and discovered it was someone cleaning the room. Eventually the noise stopped and the room was either very clean or very demolished. Everything was settling back down, and at 10:00 ish the nurse came in and gave me some meds and hung a new IV drip. These I.V. drips are automatedly (thats totally a word) controlled by these fanastic machines whose function is to make frog like croaks when they work, and to beep very loudly when they don't- I couldn't sleep with that croaking 10 inches from my head, so after while I got up to use the bathroom- while in the bathroom the device switched to what I suspect is its preferred mode, not working, and beeping very loudly. After hurrying out of the bathroom and waiting a bit, a nurse came in and fixed it, setting it back to croak mode, which after about another 30 minutes switches to a third mode, the finished mode, which I neglected to mention earlier, as it is basically identical to "not working" mode, characterized by very loud beeping. My nurse came in a turned it off, and I thought now I would finally get a chance to sleep. I fell asleep for about 30 minutes, after which I discovered that my body had decided to stop regulating my body temperature, which might not seem like a big deal right? Just take off or put on another blanket right? No. I had on a sheet, and the room was about 70 degrees because I felt really warm. After those 30 min of sleep I woke up, laying on my back, with my back literally soaked with sweat- I didn't discover this untill I move slightly, exposing part of my back, which allowed the sweat to preform its actual function- to cool me off. After rolling over out of disgust my back froze, which prompted my body to crank up the thermostat while I drifted back to sleep, wedged on the side of my bed, i.e. the non-sweat soaked portion. I awoke with my side in the state my back had been, which I "solved" by rolling back on my now dry back, and thus I spent a couple hours like a roast on spit, slowly broiled by my own uncalibrated internal thermostat. I eventually got up and changed into a dry robe thing, with hopes that my body would finally figure out that I was not floating in the vacuum of space, with one side boiling under the suns unfiltered radiation, while the other side froze into ice. When laid back down I was relatively comfortable, insofar as a beached salmon is relatively more comfortable than a lobster is being boiled. I'm not sure what time it was at this point, but what little time I had left before the next time a nurse woke me up, I was going to spend sleeping like a rock. With my bodies thermostat calibrated, or at least turned off, this seemed possible, until a new sensation ravaged my mind. I don't know why, but at that moment I NEEDED A Q-TIP. More than anything in the world. My entire conscience was suddenly channeled into the irrational need of my right ear for a Q-TIP. I clawed at the side of my head, only making the itching sensation worse. desperately I buried my ear in the cool side of my pillow, trying not to think about my left ear, lest it be overcome at well. No matter what I did, it was not enough. I think in my sleep deprived insanity and desperation I would have killed for a simple bit of cotton wrapped around a paper stick. I ended up getting out of bed and making my way to a box of Kleenex, tearing of a small piece, in some hope that I could assuage the inexorable demands of my ear. It did not, and I was forced to wait it out. Sleep was out of the question. Eventually, after literary staring at the ceiling for hours a nurse came in to adjust something or rather, which woke my mom up, and after the nurse left, I lost it. I'm not sure what I was laughing at, but I could not stop- my mom was laughing to, mostly at the general insanity of the situation, but it was clear that I was the one whose mind had finally snapped. I laughed until I was in serious pain, which didn't take long since laughing involves violent spasming of your chest, which in my case had been recently stitched and wired back in place. After a life time of laughing I drew a few haggard breaths, laid down, and managed to suppress the few chuckled that threaten to escape. At this point I believe an X-Ray tech came in and was confused as to why I couldn't keep a straight face, but then told me that the x-ray had been delayed and left. I laid sleepless for an additional parcel of time before my nurse came in at 6:00 am, gave me meds, and reset the croaking/beeping machine.
NO
The worst part is the 4th night. The night before I go home actauly. The forth night is precipitated by the 4th day, which is basically the first day they start bringing you Tylenol as a pain killer, because you are no longer in pain, and in fact everything is fantastic, I'm walking around all over the place, playing games, watching movies, and all that. Thats the calm before the storm. Its always lightest before dusk.The night starts like this, roughly. My nurse says that she will come in and give me some meds at 10:00 pm and at 6:00 am, that way I get 8 hours of sleep uninterrupted- the irony. After watching some T.V. I go to sleep- wrong. There is a hammering and pounding from the room adjacent like a construction crew was setting up to rip out the dry wall, but were interrupted by a steel-toe-booted rhino with a jackhammer. I actauly tolerate noise very well when trying to sleep, but my mom does not- if it had instead been a slipper footed kola bear, she still might not have been able to sleep. In any case, she went into the hallway and discovered it was someone cleaning the room. Eventually the noise stopped and the room was either very clean or very demolished. Everything was settling back down, and at 10:00 ish the nurse came in and gave me some meds and hung a new IV drip. These I.V. drips are automatedly (thats totally a word) controlled by these fanastic machines whose function is to make frog like croaks when they work, and to beep very loudly when they don't- I couldn't sleep with that croaking 10 inches from my head, so after while I got up to use the bathroom- while in the bathroom the device switched to what I suspect is its preferred mode, not working, and beeping very loudly. After hurrying out of the bathroom and waiting a bit, a nurse came in and fixed it, setting it back to croak mode, which after about another 30 minutes switches to a third mode, the finished mode, which I neglected to mention earlier, as it is basically identical to "not working" mode, characterized by very loud beeping. My nurse came in a turned it off, and I thought now I would finally get a chance to sleep. I fell asleep for about 30 minutes, after which I discovered that my body had decided to stop regulating my body temperature, which might not seem like a big deal right? Just take off or put on another blanket right? No. I had on a sheet, and the room was about 70 degrees because I felt really warm. After those 30 min of sleep I woke up, laying on my back, with my back literally soaked with sweat- I didn't discover this untill I move slightly, exposing part of my back, which allowed the sweat to preform its actual function- to cool me off. After rolling over out of disgust my back froze, which prompted my body to crank up the thermostat while I drifted back to sleep, wedged on the side of my bed, i.e. the non-sweat soaked portion. I awoke with my side in the state my back had been, which I "solved" by rolling back on my now dry back, and thus I spent a couple hours like a roast on spit, slowly broiled by my own uncalibrated internal thermostat. I eventually got up and changed into a dry robe thing, with hopes that my body would finally figure out that I was not floating in the vacuum of space, with one side boiling under the suns unfiltered radiation, while the other side froze into ice. When laid back down I was relatively comfortable, insofar as a beached salmon is relatively more comfortable than a lobster is being boiled. I'm not sure what time it was at this point, but what little time I had left before the next time a nurse woke me up, I was going to spend sleeping like a rock. With my bodies thermostat calibrated, or at least turned off, this seemed possible, until a new sensation ravaged my mind. I don't know why, but at that moment I NEEDED A Q-TIP. More than anything in the world. My entire conscience was suddenly channeled into the irrational need of my right ear for a Q-TIP. I clawed at the side of my head, only making the itching sensation worse. desperately I buried my ear in the cool side of my pillow, trying not to think about my left ear, lest it be overcome at well. No matter what I did, it was not enough. I think in my sleep deprived insanity and desperation I would have killed for a simple bit of cotton wrapped around a paper stick. I ended up getting out of bed and making my way to a box of Kleenex, tearing of a small piece, in some hope that I could assuage the inexorable demands of my ear. It did not, and I was forced to wait it out. Sleep was out of the question. Eventually, after literary staring at the ceiling for hours a nurse came in to adjust something or rather, which woke my mom up, and after the nurse left, I lost it. I'm not sure what I was laughing at, but I could not stop- my mom was laughing to, mostly at the general insanity of the situation, but it was clear that I was the one whose mind had finally snapped. I laughed until I was in serious pain, which didn't take long since laughing involves violent spasming of your chest, which in my case had been recently stitched and wired back in place. After a life time of laughing I drew a few haggard breaths, laid down, and managed to suppress the few chuckled that threaten to escape. At this point I believe an X-Ray tech came in and was confused as to why I couldn't keep a straight face, but then told me that the x-ray had been delayed and left. I laid sleepless for an additional parcel of time before my nurse came in at 6:00 am, gave me meds, and reset the croaking/beeping machine.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Russian Space Program
In the U.S. we are pretty proud of our space program, all the stuff we've done, like send rovers to Mar's and whatnot. But I'll tell you what. If aliens attack the earth and we need to fight them in space, I'm not calling NASA, or Burt Rutan- I'm calling Russia. For most of my life I've assumed that the only stuff Russian has done space wise was either to compete with the U.S. during the cold war time, or to help the U.S. with space station in present time. I stumbled upon the Russian Venus exploration program the other day. First, lets look at the U.S. Venus exploration program. This is the Mariner 2, the first probe to visit Mars (Mariner 1 blew up on the launch pad)
Delicate isn't it?
This is the Pioneer orbiter
Same story (I forget which , but one of these was built from left over parts form a different mission)
We got some good pictures and played around with sensors to find gravitational fields and what not
This is the first Russian probe
Thats more like it- not only can it make it to Venus (granted it took a few tries) it looks bullet proof too.
After something like 12 probes similar to this one, Russia pulled all the stops with this
Vega-2 a 5 ton hulk of metal, sensors, and solar panels.
That sphere on top contains a lander- thats right a LANDER. They sent a massive lander to parachute through the atmosphere and take measurement, including a weather balloon to be launched on the surface.
The landers actauly drilled into the soil with a drill that can only function at 500 degree C, once the metal has expanded, and then transfer the sample into an airlock, where it would be analyzed by an x-ray spectrometer.
Pretty impressive.
This is the lander
Not messing around
And they even got an image of the Venus Surface- I didn't even know we ever managed to get one
for more information http://www.mentallandscape.com/V_Venus.htm
Delicate isn't it?
This is the Pioneer orbiter
Same story (I forget which , but one of these was built from left over parts form a different mission)
We got some good pictures and played around with sensors to find gravitational fields and what not
This is the first Russian probe
Thats more like it- not only can it make it to Venus (granted it took a few tries) it looks bullet proof too.
After something like 12 probes similar to this one, Russia pulled all the stops with this
Vega-2 a 5 ton hulk of metal, sensors, and solar panels.
That sphere on top contains a lander- thats right a LANDER. They sent a massive lander to parachute through the atmosphere and take measurement, including a weather balloon to be launched on the surface.
The landers actauly drilled into the soil with a drill that can only function at 500 degree C, once the metal has expanded, and then transfer the sample into an airlock, where it would be analyzed by an x-ray spectrometer.
Pretty impressive.
This is the lander
Not messing around
And they even got an image of the Venus Surface- I didn't even know we ever managed to get one
for more information http://www.mentallandscape.com/V_Venus.htm
Fractal
Fractals are patterns that look exactly the same no matter how far you zoom in.
Today I saw the water guy delivering water to MIT Medical- he had one of those giant rolling Stonehenge style carts with 12 5 gallon jugs of water on their sides, slotted into cubbys. There was a big strap wrapped around the whole thing and the water delivery guy had his own 16 oz water bottle slotted in under the strap. I should have gotten a picture.
Today I saw the water guy delivering water to MIT Medical- he had one of those giant rolling Stonehenge style carts with 12 5 gallon jugs of water on their sides, slotted into cubbys. There was a big strap wrapped around the whole thing and the water delivery guy had his own 16 oz water bottle slotted in under the strap. I should have gotten a picture.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Fruit, a user's guide
Alot of people out there don't eat enough fruit or something. I don't really understand why- i'm pretty sure I eat way to much fruit. It's "healthy" sugar for one thing- in fact today alone I have eaten something like 6 mandarin oranges and an apple. But to those who are less familiar with fruit, this paper I wrote in 9th grade may be of some help:
There are over one hundred commonly grown and eaten species of fruit. There are also many ways characteristic by which to scientifically classify these, such as their family, their shape, whether or not they have pits, and so on. However, I believe that since fruits exist to be eaten, they should be classified on a scale of whether or not they are worth eating. The two characteristics that define this scale are deliciousness, and difficulty of eating. Therefore all fruits are either disgusting/difficult, disgusting/easy, delicious/difficult, or delicious/easy.
It is obvious that fruits that fall into the first category, disgusting and difficult, are on the lowest end of the scale. These fruits are hard to prepare, such as those having tough rinds, or too numerous seeds. They also taste terrible, or, as in the case of cherimoya, make your mouth feel funny. Raw gooseberries fall in this category. Gooseberries are extremely sour when not ripe, and when they are ripe they a mushy, and taste slightly decomposed. They are difficult to prepare due to the sharp, spiny branches whence they grow. Also, before any berries can be eaten each tiny stem must be removed. Individually. Fruit in this category is just not worth eating.
The disgusting and easy category of fruit is the second lowest fruit on the scale. A fruit that is easy to prepare yet tastes is probably still not worth eating. These fruits may be eaten out of habit. For example, when watching a movie people eat popcorn, not so much for the taste, but because it is just habit to snack on something. Seeded grapes fall into this category. Seeded grapes, like popcorn, are easy to just pop into your mouth, no cutting or peeling required. If I’m playing a game, or watching a movie, and I don’t want to make popcorn and a sandwich would require way too much effort, I may choose instead seeded grapes, despite the slimy eyeball like texture and taste. Fruit in this category may sometimes be worth eating.
Just below the top of the scale is the delicious and difficult category. Out of all the categories, I believe that this category contains almost all of the best tasting fruits. A prime example for this category is pomegranate. Pomegranate is by far the most difficult fruit I have ever encountered. It must cut into wedges with a large knife, spaying deep red juice all over the place, forever staining the cutting board. The inside of the fruit is a complicated and contorted labyrinth of walls which are covered with seeds. These seeds have a small amount of fruit on them, and then only efficient way to eat then is to gnaw on the fruit like a carnivore, though in the process one would practically have to wear a poncho and galoshes to prevent being drenched in red juice. Pomegranate, however, has a sweet reward, as do other difficult fruits in this category, such as mangos, grapefruit, and kiwi. Fruit in this category is almost always worth eating.
This last category is the highest on the worth eating scale containing fruits that are both delicious and easy to prepare. These fruits taste good, and also don’t require any peeling or cutting. This category includes apples, strawberries, blueberries, star fruit, and seedless grapes. There are also several fruits that require some peeling or cutting, yet make it into this category anyways due to their high yield of deliciousness per effort required to prepare. These fruits include watermelon because of the shear amount of fruit that can be harvested with just a few cuts and bananas because they are incredibly easy to peel. Fruit in this category is always worth eating.
Next time you are cruising the isles of the produce department, trying pick out fruit, ask yourself “How easy is this fruit to prepare?” and “Does it taste good enough to warrant the effort it takes to prepare it?” Oh, and don’t ever buy cherimoyas.
I'm not sure how sane I was in 9th grade. I was reminded that I wrote it when I read the below xkcd comic which has the same general theme, but in a more succinct pictorial format (However I do have to disagree on the classification of many specific fruits- like pomegranate and oranges- both delicious)
The future now
Have you read the sci-fi books by Issac Asimov? They are very good, but thats not what i'm going to talk about. There is series of 3ish books that involve the same main protagonist who lives in the future where everyone in the world lives in giant bubble cities, where apartments farther from the dome are more expensive because people have developed a phobia of the outside world, and never go there. I thought this was a little fanciful.
The other day I was eating lunch on a bench outside of a library, leaning on the giant glass walls separating the hall I was sitting in from a courtyard. It is a very nice courtyard- with neat antique-looking cobbles and mythical sculptures of dragons and knights and that sort of thing. It was a very nice day out, about 50 degrees, with little wind. There was a man sitting on a bench a few yards down from mine, the adult kind of person who you can tell has a job and responsibilities and takes these things seriously. Anywho, I see him pack up his laptop, with some trepidation, glancing around nervously, like he's afraid some Orwellian thought police might pop up and ask him with a cheery-but-dangerous smile, "You wouldn't happen to be having original thoughts now, would we?" He then, with his jacket slung non-optimally under his arm, makes his way to the door to the courtyard. I realize as he reaches the door that he intends to go outside and enjoy the day, much to my surprise. I glance around the courtyard to make sure there wasn't any more likely reason for him to venture outside- but there is no "serious people who don't have time to enjoy the little things in life" membership booth in sight.
He opens the door.
He puts one foot over the threshold.
He peers awkwardly around the the glass door, rather than look through it, perhaps to give the impression that he has seen a horrendous but well timed monster which will give him an excuse to do what he does next.
With a pause generated by a level of indecision ordinarily not scene outside of a build your own burger line, he steps back inside, beating an embarrassed retreat back to his bench.
He need not be ashamed- his actions will be nothing short of heroic in a thousand years time, and even now his rare idealism is something we could all do with a little more of.
The other day I was eating lunch on a bench outside of a library, leaning on the giant glass walls separating the hall I was sitting in from a courtyard. It is a very nice courtyard- with neat antique-looking cobbles and mythical sculptures of dragons and knights and that sort of thing. It was a very nice day out, about 50 degrees, with little wind. There was a man sitting on a bench a few yards down from mine, the adult kind of person who you can tell has a job and responsibilities and takes these things seriously. Anywho, I see him pack up his laptop, with some trepidation, glancing around nervously, like he's afraid some Orwellian thought police might pop up and ask him with a cheery-but-dangerous smile, "You wouldn't happen to be having original thoughts now, would we?" He then, with his jacket slung non-optimally under his arm, makes his way to the door to the courtyard. I realize as he reaches the door that he intends to go outside and enjoy the day, much to my surprise. I glance around the courtyard to make sure there wasn't any more likely reason for him to venture outside- but there is no "serious people who don't have time to enjoy the little things in life" membership booth in sight.
He opens the door.
He puts one foot over the threshold.
He peers awkwardly around the the glass door, rather than look through it, perhaps to give the impression that he has seen a horrendous but well timed monster which will give him an excuse to do what he does next.
With a pause generated by a level of indecision ordinarily not scene outside of a build your own burger line, he steps back inside, beating an embarrassed retreat back to his bench.
He need not be ashamed- his actions will be nothing short of heroic in a thousand years time, and even now his rare idealism is something we could all do with a little more of.
Jurassic Park
Jurassic Park is the best book to film adaptation ever produced.
I'm sure you have seen the movie, and I dare you to find anything wrong with it. The actors are amazing, even the kids (I've Lex was cast based on her ability to scream). The set is awesome, and the special effects amazing- they look great now, even though the movie was released in 1993! It has everything- adventure as Grant and the kids trek through the park, the wit of Ian Malcolm (although its best to read the book to understand the depth of his character- every character actauly), special effects, suspense, and a original, credible plot. Plus, it has dinosaurs. Mostly when I see movies that are below par, and even most movies above par, I think, "Man, that would have been better if they found a way to put in dinosaurs." However, I am not saying it is the dinos that make the movie- the actual screen time of dinosaurs is something like 15 minutes! Its the characters that make the movie so high quality. All have their own misconceptions about the feasibility of the park- well, all but two of them- Malcolm and Muldoon. Who is Muldoon you may ask- i'm not sure if they ever even say his name in the movie- maybe once. He is the guy with the gun and the gas powered jeep. He is the only sensible person working at the park. His role is a bit underplayed in the movie compared to the book, but they manage to fit in all his best bits- hes got the best lines in the whole movie, in any case, (at raptor cage during feeding) "They should all be destroyed... you can tell when she (alpha raptor) looks at you, shes working things out" (in forest) "Clever girl.." (eaten) (in the book he doesn't get eaten, which is kinda nice, but then again in the book he has missile launchers)
I think the main success in the movie is that they did not try to turn the book straight into a movie- they cut and twisted lots of it, making much more thematic. This would not work for a book like harry potter, cause you can cut any of the plot out (Honestly, Warner Brothers is doomed in making the last movie- I mean how are they going to have a half hour scene of dead harry in heaven with dumbledore explaining a chapters worth of background info, which is crucial if anything in the last movie is to make any sense at all) Jurassic park is about an idea- man creating what it cannot control. This idea is why the book is great, and it is why the movie is great. How it is precisely portrayed plot wise is somewhat secondary- as long as you get lots of memorable quotes, lots of screaming, raptors, and nedry getting eaten (What do you want, food? I got nothing. I'm all out of food. See stick? Stick stupid! fetch stick. no wonder your extinct *eaten*), it all works out.
Hmm. Actauly I lied. There is one thing wrong with the movie. You the scene when the kids and grant and ellie are in the control room, and grant and ellie are trying to hold the door closed as the raptor tries to get in? Well, we see elli trying to reach the gun. she can't. lex is busy trying to activate the door looks. But Timmy? hes just standing there. GET THE GUN TIMMY! JEEZ! i guess maybe everyone was too stressed out to figure this out. but still. get the gun. THE DOOR LOCK! THE DOOR LOCKS!
but yeah. read the book. and all Micheal Crichton's other si-fi books. but don't see their movie adaptations. They were all lacking something- probably dinosaurs. Although, if Spielberg ever makes an adaptation of Crichton's "Swarm" I will be first in line. cause it has nano-bots.
I'm sure you have seen the movie, and I dare you to find anything wrong with it. The actors are amazing, even the kids (I've Lex was cast based on her ability to scream). The set is awesome, and the special effects amazing- they look great now, even though the movie was released in 1993! It has everything- adventure as Grant and the kids trek through the park, the wit of Ian Malcolm (although its best to read the book to understand the depth of his character- every character actauly), special effects, suspense, and a original, credible plot. Plus, it has dinosaurs. Mostly when I see movies that are below par, and even most movies above par, I think, "Man, that would have been better if they found a way to put in dinosaurs." However, I am not saying it is the dinos that make the movie- the actual screen time of dinosaurs is something like 15 minutes! Its the characters that make the movie so high quality. All have their own misconceptions about the feasibility of the park- well, all but two of them- Malcolm and Muldoon. Who is Muldoon you may ask- i'm not sure if they ever even say his name in the movie- maybe once. He is the guy with the gun and the gas powered jeep. He is the only sensible person working at the park. His role is a bit underplayed in the movie compared to the book, but they manage to fit in all his best bits- hes got the best lines in the whole movie, in any case, (at raptor cage during feeding) "They should all be destroyed... you can tell when she (alpha raptor) looks at you, shes working things out" (in forest) "Clever girl.." (eaten) (in the book he doesn't get eaten, which is kinda nice, but then again in the book he has missile launchers)
I think the main success in the movie is that they did not try to turn the book straight into a movie- they cut and twisted lots of it, making much more thematic. This would not work for a book like harry potter, cause you can cut any of the plot out (Honestly, Warner Brothers is doomed in making the last movie- I mean how are they going to have a half hour scene of dead harry in heaven with dumbledore explaining a chapters worth of background info, which is crucial if anything in the last movie is to make any sense at all) Jurassic park is about an idea- man creating what it cannot control. This idea is why the book is great, and it is why the movie is great. How it is precisely portrayed plot wise is somewhat secondary- as long as you get lots of memorable quotes, lots of screaming, raptors, and nedry getting eaten (What do you want, food? I got nothing. I'm all out of food. See stick? Stick stupid! fetch stick. no wonder your extinct *eaten*), it all works out.
Hmm. Actauly I lied. There is one thing wrong with the movie. You the scene when the kids and grant and ellie are in the control room, and grant and ellie are trying to hold the door closed as the raptor tries to get in? Well, we see elli trying to reach the gun. she can't. lex is busy trying to activate the door looks. But Timmy? hes just standing there. GET THE GUN TIMMY! JEEZ! i guess maybe everyone was too stressed out to figure this out. but still. get the gun. THE DOOR LOCK! THE DOOR LOCKS!
but yeah. read the book. and all Micheal Crichton's other si-fi books. but don't see their movie adaptations. They were all lacking something- probably dinosaurs. Although, if Spielberg ever makes an adaptation of Crichton's "Swarm" I will be first in line. cause it has nano-bots.
Monday, March 7, 2011
The Quest for the Elusive T-Shirt
So, I go to college at MIT (IHTFP), which is fantastic. But lets not get ahead of the story. Before college there was high school, and in high school you apply to college, and this is where our story begins. Technically it begins not during high school, but the summer before fall of my senior year. There is a mystic organization called QuestBridge (I should have seen this coming). Its a fantastic organisation, and I can't say a single negative word about what they do. This is what they are all about- when you apply for colleges you can fill out each colleges app, which is great. Or you can fill out the QuestBridge App (thats a long word- from now on QuestBridge=QB) QB has a partnership with a whole slue of colleges, who have agreed to accept QB apps instead of their own. If the college decides to admit you based on your QB app, you get a full ride scholarship. Even if your college does not accept your QB with a full ride, they can still admit you- without all the money. Thats what happened to me. How can I complain- I got into MIT! (plus QB pays your app fees, which are like $70-$90!) You may be wondering, "What the heck does this have to do with T-Shirts?"
I'll tell you
By utilizing QB's great app process I became inextricably linked to the QB community forever- which is great
They even offered everyone a free T-Shirt
I got an innocent email saying so
It even gave me the option of choosing from 3 or 4 designs
It would be shipped for free to my house
This was sometime in may last spring
I clicked through the few questions- name, address, t-shirt size, hit submit and thought nothing of it
This turned out to be very easy for the next two months because I never got it.
Then I got another email- the same email in fact. Being me, I filled out the form again, thinking "Hey maybe I get two free t-shirts"
no
Fall swings around (still no t-shirt) and I move to MIT (super cool)
I get another email- guess what! The t-shirts exist and are being delivered to MIT, where QB peoples will be able to get at them. Some how. They are being distributed to the QB director at MIT, who will get them to us. So things seems to be moving along, and I am really getting into the free t-shirt groove, having scored a dozen free t-shirts during orientation week. I want this t-shirt. The design I choose has a cool spiral on the front.
Over the next several months I receive emails about a couple of QB events going on at MIT- little lunches where the QB director provides free food, and you get to chat with other people at MIT who got in via QB. And the t-shirts are at these events. At least I assume they were, as I never went to any- for which I do feel a bit guilty, but they were always during lunch time! thats class time! It also sounded like it would be pretty awkward- plus I eat a vegan diet, and the worst thing that can happen as a vegan is go to a lunch socializing thing with a few other people who have never met, at which the well intentioned host sees everyone looking pointedly into the distance, sipping cup after cup of free soda, and trying not to talk to anyone, while appearing to be interesting in what everyone else isn't saying. At this point the host will try to catalyze socializing by turning to the only person not eating the meat lovers meat and cheese pizza (thats me- the vegan) and saying "Dig in! Have some food! We got it for you guys!" to which I say, "Uh, no thanks..."
"No, really, help yourself!" and I end the conversation with "I'm vegan" (some more persistent hosts, with good intentions, offer me the carrots, and maybe say "I was vegan once" to which I can't help but thinking "When? between your last two meals?" but that is just cynical, and I'm sure I'm just projecting my own frustrations on really nice people who put the effort into holding these events.
I think I got off topic there. But yeah, thats why I didn't go to the events, and hence, why at this point of the story, I don't have a t-shirt.
Anywho, my chances of getting my t-shirt seem pretty slim, given my sub-conscience avoidance of social interaction. But then, a sign! Well, its actauly just an email, but unlike the last 50 emails about picking up t-shirts and socializing, this one is only about picking up the t-shirt- perfect! All I have to do is walk down to the student center (about a 8 min walk) go to the 5 floor, and meet with a person who has the t-shirts. Unfortunately, I actauly am pretty busy writing a big paper on some 18th century novel. However in the space of around an hour, I get a handful of emails from the person waiting on the 5th floor that veil a dejectedness in nobody coming to pick up t-shirts. The guilt of avoiding dozens of QB events in cities across the U.S. starts to overwhelm me- I took QB's time and money and ran, without looking back. I decide that the least I can do is go pick up my t-shirt- the person on the 5th floor will be happy, I will be happy, and everything would be good in the world. I email the person to say I am coming, throw on a jacket and stride confidently out into the brisk Cambridge dusk. As I walk the long sideway to the student center, I am flush with excitement about getting my long lost t-shirt. The wind blows dry leave up the path in front of me, and I feel like the very elements of nature have aligned and granted me power over them. The walk to the student center went by quickly as I was adsorbed by the interesting leaf patterns, and the wind wasn't chilly in the slightest.
Once I got into the student center the tide starts to turn. First of all, I didn't even know the student center had 5 floors. i find the elevator on the 2nd floor and take it to the 5th. I don't see the person. A quick exploration down a hallway reveals a study room with computer, and I guess the person is in there. But I need to swipe my ID to get in- at first I don't see the card reader- then I notice it several feet behind me. These minor obstacles may seem trivial to you, but they were omens that the alignment with the universe I had experienced on the way to the student center was leaking away, leaving me defenseless against reality.
I enter the room. The person is there. She is wearing a Questbridge t-shirt. They exist! I approach and she greets me with a smile, and asks for my names. She looks through a leaf of paper and finds my name. I ordered a medium she says. I knew that. She begins to sift through the pile of t-shirts. My reward is nigh! Its a large pile, and I can tell not many people have come to get their t-shirt. She pauses. And looks up.
"Um. I don't have any mediums."
My mind explodes "She doesn't have any mediums?! She has a good 3 dozen shirts and no mediums, possibly the most common t-shirt size!"
I stare blankly. I do the logical thing, and begin to say "I'll take a large"
I'm not sure what happened next, but somehow, without saying anything I know that is not an option. instead she says that she must have left them in her dorm. I don't know how to respond.
She then asks if I could meet her at 9:00pm that night, or at 4:00 the next day. I have class at 4:00, and no free-t-shirt is worth walking all the way back to the student center at 9:00. I say those won't really work, but I appreciate the effort, and end up leaving empty handed. I cannot believe it.
I walk dejectedly back to my dorm, acutely feeling the icy wind cutting at my neck through my collar, and the leaves stumble awkwardly along the sidewalk in sad, uninteresting patterns. My quest has failed. I resolve that from this point on no power on earth can force me into pursuing my t-shirt anymore.
I have received a dozen more emails, each inviting me to a social event with t-shirts handed out, each proclaiming to be the last chance. I know they are just trying to trick me. But I will never give in.
(QuestBridge is a fantastic organization, and I cannot thank them enough for the service they provide- they saved me hundreds of dollars in app fees, and their app got me into my dream college. Unfortunately the universe has conspired in such a way that I will never get my t-shirt)
I'll tell you
By utilizing QB's great app process I became inextricably linked to the QB community forever- which is great
They even offered everyone a free T-Shirt
I got an innocent email saying so
It even gave me the option of choosing from 3 or 4 designs
It would be shipped for free to my house
This was sometime in may last spring
I clicked through the few questions- name, address, t-shirt size, hit submit and thought nothing of it
This turned out to be very easy for the next two months because I never got it.
Then I got another email- the same email in fact. Being me, I filled out the form again, thinking "Hey maybe I get two free t-shirts"
no
Fall swings around (still no t-shirt) and I move to MIT (super cool)
I get another email- guess what! The t-shirts exist and are being delivered to MIT, where QB peoples will be able to get at them. Some how. They are being distributed to the QB director at MIT, who will get them to us. So things seems to be moving along, and I am really getting into the free t-shirt groove, having scored a dozen free t-shirts during orientation week. I want this t-shirt. The design I choose has a cool spiral on the front.
Over the next several months I receive emails about a couple of QB events going on at MIT- little lunches where the QB director provides free food, and you get to chat with other people at MIT who got in via QB. And the t-shirts are at these events. At least I assume they were, as I never went to any- for which I do feel a bit guilty, but they were always during lunch time! thats class time! It also sounded like it would be pretty awkward- plus I eat a vegan diet, and the worst thing that can happen as a vegan is go to a lunch socializing thing with a few other people who have never met, at which the well intentioned host sees everyone looking pointedly into the distance, sipping cup after cup of free soda, and trying not to talk to anyone, while appearing to be interesting in what everyone else isn't saying. At this point the host will try to catalyze socializing by turning to the only person not eating the meat lovers meat and cheese pizza (thats me- the vegan) and saying "Dig in! Have some food! We got it for you guys!" to which I say, "Uh, no thanks..."
"No, really, help yourself!" and I end the conversation with "I'm vegan" (some more persistent hosts, with good intentions, offer me the carrots, and maybe say "I was vegan once" to which I can't help but thinking "When? between your last two meals?" but that is just cynical, and I'm sure I'm just projecting my own frustrations on really nice people who put the effort into holding these events.
I think I got off topic there. But yeah, thats why I didn't go to the events, and hence, why at this point of the story, I don't have a t-shirt.
Anywho, my chances of getting my t-shirt seem pretty slim, given my sub-conscience avoidance of social interaction. But then, a sign! Well, its actauly just an email, but unlike the last 50 emails about picking up t-shirts and socializing, this one is only about picking up the t-shirt- perfect! All I have to do is walk down to the student center (about a 8 min walk) go to the 5 floor, and meet with a person who has the t-shirts. Unfortunately, I actauly am pretty busy writing a big paper on some 18th century novel. However in the space of around an hour, I get a handful of emails from the person waiting on the 5th floor that veil a dejectedness in nobody coming to pick up t-shirts. The guilt of avoiding dozens of QB events in cities across the U.S. starts to overwhelm me- I took QB's time and money and ran, without looking back. I decide that the least I can do is go pick up my t-shirt- the person on the 5th floor will be happy, I will be happy, and everything would be good in the world. I email the person to say I am coming, throw on a jacket and stride confidently out into the brisk Cambridge dusk. As I walk the long sideway to the student center, I am flush with excitement about getting my long lost t-shirt. The wind blows dry leave up the path in front of me, and I feel like the very elements of nature have aligned and granted me power over them. The walk to the student center went by quickly as I was adsorbed by the interesting leaf patterns, and the wind wasn't chilly in the slightest.
Once I got into the student center the tide starts to turn. First of all, I didn't even know the student center had 5 floors. i find the elevator on the 2nd floor and take it to the 5th. I don't see the person. A quick exploration down a hallway reveals a study room with computer, and I guess the person is in there. But I need to swipe my ID to get in- at first I don't see the card reader- then I notice it several feet behind me. These minor obstacles may seem trivial to you, but they were omens that the alignment with the universe I had experienced on the way to the student center was leaking away, leaving me defenseless against reality.
I enter the room. The person is there. She is wearing a Questbridge t-shirt. They exist! I approach and she greets me with a smile, and asks for my names. She looks through a leaf of paper and finds my name. I ordered a medium she says. I knew that. She begins to sift through the pile of t-shirts. My reward is nigh! Its a large pile, and I can tell not many people have come to get their t-shirt. She pauses. And looks up.
"Um. I don't have any mediums."
My mind explodes "She doesn't have any mediums?! She has a good 3 dozen shirts and no mediums, possibly the most common t-shirt size!"
I stare blankly. I do the logical thing, and begin to say "I'll take a large"
I'm not sure what happened next, but somehow, without saying anything I know that is not an option. instead she says that she must have left them in her dorm. I don't know how to respond.
She then asks if I could meet her at 9:00pm that night, or at 4:00 the next day. I have class at 4:00, and no free-t-shirt is worth walking all the way back to the student center at 9:00. I say those won't really work, but I appreciate the effort, and end up leaving empty handed. I cannot believe it.
I walk dejectedly back to my dorm, acutely feeling the icy wind cutting at my neck through my collar, and the leaves stumble awkwardly along the sidewalk in sad, uninteresting patterns. My quest has failed. I resolve that from this point on no power on earth can force me into pursuing my t-shirt anymore.
I have received a dozen more emails, each inviting me to a social event with t-shirts handed out, each proclaiming to be the last chance. I know they are just trying to trick me. But I will never give in.
(QuestBridge is a fantastic organization, and I cannot thank them enough for the service they provide- they saved me hundreds of dollars in app fees, and their app got me into my dream college. Unfortunately the universe has conspired in such a way that I will never get my t-shirt)
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