Güiña (Oncifelis guigna)
Thursday, December 31, 2009, 3:44 am
As promised, Dan's much better picture of the kodkod we encountered in PN Nahuelbuta. Awesome!
Greetings from Parque Nacional Huerquehue
Thursday, December 31, 2009, 3:41 am
Happy New Year to you and yours!
Thursday, December 31, 2009, 3:41 am
Happy New Year to you and yours!
Puma baby
Tuesday, December 29, 2009, 4:22 am
This is a blurry picture - Dan has better ones - but Internet access here is weak and this is the best you're gonna get for now. We went hiking in Parque National Nahuelbuta yesterday; it was raining like crazy, and we only made it halfway up the trail, but I did stop to wait for Dan... and noticed something jump off of the trail and up a tree. Upon closer investigation, I thought it might be a house cat in the forest - whaaa? - but when I heard Mom growling nearby, I slowly realized that it was a puma. Cute, but dangerous. We took pictures and backed away slowly. :)
Update: Looks like this is actually a kodkod and not a puma.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009, 4:22 am
This is a blurry picture - Dan has better ones - but Internet access here is weak and this is the best you're gonna get for now. We went hiking in Parque National Nahuelbuta yesterday; it was raining like crazy, and we only made it halfway up the trail, but I did stop to wait for Dan... and noticed something jump off of the trail and up a tree. Upon closer investigation, I thought it might be a house cat in the forest - whaaa? - but when I heard Mom growling nearby, I slowly realized that it was a puma. Cute, but dangerous. We took pictures and backed away slowly. :)
Update: Looks like this is actually a kodkod and not a puma.
Nalgene bottle as honeybag
Saturday, December 26, 2009, 1:39 pm
Q: What do you do when a friend gives you delicious homemade honey in a wax paper container that explodes in your luggage?
A: Easy! You decant it into a Nalgene bottle. 1kg honey == 700 mL remaining, safely packed for the trip home.
Saturday, December 26, 2009, 1:39 pm
Q: What do you do when a friend gives you delicious homemade honey in a wax paper container that explodes in your luggage?
A: Easy! You decant it into a Nalgene bottle. 1kg honey == 700 mL remaining, safely packed for the trip home.
It's places like this that make me wish I were a beer drinker
Wednesday, December 16, 2009, 12:58 pm
Last Friday night, I was fortunate enough to eat at The Kensington Grill, a swank restaurant over in Kensington, which is an affluent neighborhood a couple of neighborhoods over from the one in which I live. However, I have to fess up here: sometimes seeing the wine list is enough to make me want to leave a restaurant immediately. Why? Well, it's complicated, but there are a few things that really annoy me when I happen across them in restaurants.
One: Wine drinkers may largely be middle-class pretentious types such as myself, sure, but that doesn't mean that we enjoy ridiculous markups. When I see an $8 bottle of a good wine like Yalumba Y Series Viognier selling for $8.50 a glass, I suddenly finding myself happy to drink Michelob at $5 instead. This wine probably costs $6 direct from the distributor; when a restaurant is charging $34 for the bottle, that's $28 you've just spent for... well, what? Storage, stemware, and profit probably won't run you more than $15 - at least that's what this restaurant charges for corkage (that is, they'll charge you $15 to open a bottle of wine you brought from home) - so would anyone be happy with taking $28 out of their wallet and offering it up as a gift for no particular reason? No? I didn't think so.
Two: When it comes to wine, names matter. Really. When I see a wine list with things like "Maison Kuentz" or "De La Paompadour" on it, I get kind of pissed off. Kuentz-Bas, an Alsatian winery, make a very good riesling that I've seen for $14 at Costco, and Domaine Carneros's Cuvée de la Pompadour is said to be very good at $25 - but if use the wrong names, it feels cheap and stupid. It also doesn't help when you're selling these wines at a 320% and 350% markup over their retail prices.
Three: If you're going to label wines according to the type of grapes used to make them, don't have things on the menu labeled "vouvray" and "bourgogne (sic) blanc." Feel free to say "chenin blanc" and "chardonnay." Alternatively, if you're gonna use place names, then capitalize them for fuck's sake. OK? And whatever you do, "cuvee" isn't either, so just leave it off the menu entirely.
Four: Don't abbreviate things. Chard is a vegetable, not a white wine.
Five: Reserve isn't a kind of grape. It's a meaningless marketing buzzword.
Six: I don't give a shit what taste descriptors you put on a menu - but if you go there, please just stick to the tried-and-true descriptors wine writers overuse all the time. If you say a syrah tastes of "smoked ham, clove" all I'm hearing is "smells like SPAM 1960s style." Yuck.
Seven: If you're going to use place names, be consistent. Mendoza is specific; Italy isn't.
Eight: The word "rosé" has a fucking accent aigu. Please use it. Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose but you can't drink a rose. Exception: Charles Melton Rose of Virginia, of course.
Nine: It's lovely that you'll discount your wines by 50% (well, some of them) on Wednesday, but when I read that, all I see is "if this isn't Wednesday, we're about to rip you off entirely. Santé!"
Ten: Biodynamic (and it would be nice if you knew how to spell that correctly too) isn't a marketing buzzword (or, rather, it shouldn't be). Even so: if you're going to deploy it on your wine list, then at least mark which wines are biodynamically grown (using the Demeter mark). Better yet: I don't recognize any of the wines on this list as being biodynamic, so why the hype? Looking at this list, for example, makes me think that you have exactly three wines on the entire list that are biodynamically grown: two from Ampelos and one from Montinore. You say that "in an effort to be environmentally responsible, Kensington Grill is constantly striving to offer a selection of wines that focus on Bio-Dynamic winemaking." I say that you're a bunch of douchebags for your deceptive attempt to make your customers think there's something environmentally responsible about your lame-ass wine list.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009, 12:58 pm
Last Friday night, I was fortunate enough to eat at The Kensington Grill, a swank restaurant over in Kensington, which is an affluent neighborhood a couple of neighborhoods over from the one in which I live. However, I have to fess up here: sometimes seeing the wine list is enough to make me want to leave a restaurant immediately. Why? Well, it's complicated, but there are a few things that really annoy me when I happen across them in restaurants.
One: Wine drinkers may largely be middle-class pretentious types such as myself, sure, but that doesn't mean that we enjoy ridiculous markups. When I see an $8 bottle of a good wine like Yalumba Y Series Viognier selling for $8.50 a glass, I suddenly finding myself happy to drink Michelob at $5 instead. This wine probably costs $6 direct from the distributor; when a restaurant is charging $34 for the bottle, that's $28 you've just spent for... well, what? Storage, stemware, and profit probably won't run you more than $15 - at least that's what this restaurant charges for corkage (that is, they'll charge you $15 to open a bottle of wine you brought from home) - so would anyone be happy with taking $28 out of their wallet and offering it up as a gift for no particular reason? No? I didn't think so.
Two: When it comes to wine, names matter. Really. When I see a wine list with things like "Maison Kuentz" or "De La Paompadour" on it, I get kind of pissed off. Kuentz-Bas, an Alsatian winery, make a very good riesling that I've seen for $14 at Costco, and Domaine Carneros's Cuvée de la Pompadour is said to be very good at $25 - but if use the wrong names, it feels cheap and stupid. It also doesn't help when you're selling these wines at a 320% and 350% markup over their retail prices.
Three: If you're going to label wines according to the type of grapes used to make them, don't have things on the menu labeled "vouvray" and "bourgogne (sic) blanc." Feel free to say "chenin blanc" and "chardonnay." Alternatively, if you're gonna use place names, then capitalize them for fuck's sake. OK? And whatever you do, "cuvee" isn't either, so just leave it off the menu entirely.
Four: Don't abbreviate things. Chard is a vegetable, not a white wine.
Five: Reserve isn't a kind of grape. It's a meaningless marketing buzzword.
Six: I don't give a shit what taste descriptors you put on a menu - but if you go there, please just stick to the tried-and-true descriptors wine writers overuse all the time. If you say a syrah tastes of "smoked ham, clove" all I'm hearing is "smells like SPAM 1960s style." Yuck.
Seven: If you're going to use place names, be consistent. Mendoza is specific; Italy isn't.
Eight: The word "rosé" has a fucking accent aigu. Please use it. Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose but you can't drink a rose. Exception: Charles Melton Rose of Virginia, of course.
Nine: It's lovely that you'll discount your wines by 50% (well, some of them) on Wednesday, but when I read that, all I see is "if this isn't Wednesday, we're about to rip you off entirely. Santé!"
Ten: Biodynamic (and it would be nice if you knew how to spell that correctly too) isn't a marketing buzzword (or, rather, it shouldn't be). Even so: if you're going to deploy it on your wine list, then at least mark which wines are biodynamically grown (using the Demeter mark). Better yet: I don't recognize any of the wines on this list as being biodynamic, so why the hype? Looking at this list, for example, makes me think that you have exactly three wines on the entire list that are biodynamically grown: two from Ampelos and one from Montinore. You say that "in an effort to be environmentally responsible, Kensington Grill is constantly striving to offer a selection of wines that focus on Bio-Dynamic winemaking." I say that you're a bunch of douchebags for your deceptive attempt to make your customers think there's something environmentally responsible about your lame-ass wine list.
The Main Thing
Saturday, December 12, 2009, 11:45 am
Found my copy of The Main Thing cleaning up the guest bedroom today and thought I'd post some of it here:
The Main Thing was a small spiral-bound book given to Netscape employees as part of the 5 year anniversary celebrations. At the time I was enjoying the first job I'd ever had with real responsibilities and a salary to match; these were the salad days before the slow, energy-sapping assault of the spectacularly craptastic <insert whatever you call the decade that's about to end here>.
Saturday, December 12, 2009, 11:45 am
Found my copy of The Main Thing cleaning up the guest bedroom today and thought I'd post some of it here:
The Main Thing was a small spiral-bound book given to Netscape employees as part of the 5 year anniversary celebrations. At the time I was enjoying the first job I'd ever had with real responsibilities and a salary to match; these were the salad days before the slow, energy-sapping assault of the spectacularly craptastic <insert whatever you call the decade that's about to end here>.
Oxford fail
Monday, November 30, 2009, 9:00 pm
When Dan and I visited Oxford for the first time last Wednesday, I was shocked at the sloppiness of the signage of the museums we visited. After all, this was Oxford, right? I mean, they wrote the frickin' dictionary and gave us the serial comma, also known as the Oxford comma (or the "most awesome comma evar!" if you're Californian, of course).
If you'll excuse the poor photography, here are thirteen random examples. They're all from the Ashmolean museum (with the exception of the first two, which are from the Museum of the History of Science). There are even a couple of ringers thrown in just for grins. Enjoy!
1. The plural of "activity" is not "activitie"
2. It's a long way to Februrary
3. There are apparently seven continents in the Ashmolean Museum
4. Older? Younger? My head hurts
5. Where the extra comma goes
6. Brackets[ off center]
![[ Two Women]](http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2507/4149387848_2f3d50ffe6.jpg)
7. Another missing Oxford comma
8. What button do I press to get to the third floor?
9. Curious indeed
10. Wrong, in principal
11. And did those FedEx / In ancient time?
12. Museum signage is at once confusing and reflect incompetence
13. Random comma usage a go go (with sentence fragment)
Monday, November 30, 2009, 9:00 pm
When Dan and I visited Oxford for the first time last Wednesday, I was shocked at the sloppiness of the signage of the museums we visited. After all, this was Oxford, right? I mean, they wrote the frickin' dictionary and gave us the serial comma, also known as the Oxford comma (or the "most awesome comma evar!" if you're Californian, of course).
If you'll excuse the poor photography, here are thirteen random examples. They're all from the Ashmolean museum (with the exception of the first two, which are from the Museum of the History of Science). There are even a couple of ringers thrown in just for grins. Enjoy!
1. The plural of "activity" is not "activitie"
2. It's a long way to Februrary
3. There are apparently seven continents in the Ashmolean Museum
4. Older? Younger? My head hurts
5. Where the extra comma goes
6. Brackets[ off center]
7. Another missing Oxford comma
8. What button do I press to get to the third floor?
9. Curious indeed
10. Wrong, in principal
11. And did those FedEx / In ancient time?
12. Museum signage is at once confusing and reflect incompetence
13. Random comma usage a go go (with sentence fragment)
How November 2009 was like August 1985
Monday, November 30, 2009, 6:15 pm
Last week, Dan and I were walking towards the Oxo Tower and made an unscheduled stop at the Hayward Gallery to see the Ed Ruscha exhibition (which was awesome: if there's anything better than LACMA, it's LACMA on fire!).
On the way out, we made a quick run through the gift shop. I noticed a really interesting looking book and took a picture of it as a reminder to see if I could find an inexpensive copy after returning home (after all, English museum shops are predictably more expensive than buying it used from an American bookstore). Here's my pic:
Strangely enough, I found myself thinking a day or two ago about a paperback book that my aunt Lisa and uncle Randy gave me shortly before leaving for Germany as an exchange student in 1985. I loved this book: it had a bunch of pictures of America in it and I always thought it was really cool to show it to Germans who seemed to think that there wasn't anything worth seeing outside of New York City. After all, I'd already spent time in fine places like Polaris, MN and Panguitch, UT and heck, even parts of Stockton, CA (my home town) looked like places in this book. I couldn't remember anything about this book other than what the cover looked like, which meant searching for it wasn't going to happen (because online book searches can't read your mind for sketchy 24 year old memories).
However, after checking Amazon for the book above, I remembered that the publisher was the same: Aperture. This led me to searching Aperture's Web site for a while in hopes of finding that other book, to no avail. I then searched AbeBooks for all Aperture publications from 1983 through 1985; finally, after scanning 900+ results for that, I finally found that treasured book from my childhood:
Guess what? The book at the Hayward Gallery was the same damned book, just a newer edition.
Funny, that.
Bonus: Here's a random picture from the men's toilet at the Hayward:
Monday, November 30, 2009, 6:15 pm
Last week, Dan and I were walking towards the Oxo Tower and made an unscheduled stop at the Hayward Gallery to see the Ed Ruscha exhibition (which was awesome: if there's anything better than LACMA, it's LACMA on fire!).
On the way out, we made a quick run through the gift shop. I noticed a really interesting looking book and took a picture of it as a reminder to see if I could find an inexpensive copy after returning home (after all, English museum shops are predictably more expensive than buying it used from an American bookstore). Here's my pic:
Strangely enough, I found myself thinking a day or two ago about a paperback book that my aunt Lisa and uncle Randy gave me shortly before leaving for Germany as an exchange student in 1985. I loved this book: it had a bunch of pictures of America in it and I always thought it was really cool to show it to Germans who seemed to think that there wasn't anything worth seeing outside of New York City. After all, I'd already spent time in fine places like Polaris, MN and Panguitch, UT and heck, even parts of Stockton, CA (my home town) looked like places in this book. I couldn't remember anything about this book other than what the cover looked like, which meant searching for it wasn't going to happen (because online book searches can't read your mind for sketchy 24 year old memories).
However, after checking Amazon for the book above, I remembered that the publisher was the same: Aperture. This led me to searching Aperture's Web site for a while in hopes of finding that other book, to no avail. I then searched AbeBooks for all Aperture publications from 1983 through 1985; finally, after scanning 900+ results for that, I finally found that treasured book from my childhood:
Guess what? The book at the Hayward Gallery was the same damned book, just a newer edition.
Funny, that.
Bonus: Here's a random picture from the men's toilet at the Hayward:
The Assmolean Dining Room
Wednesday, November 25, 2009, 8:00 pm
Last week before leaving California for London, I decided that it would be fun to have a cream tea whilst in England. After a quick look around, it seemed like the best option would be to check out the new Ashmolean Dining Room in Oxford. After all, Jancis Robinson's husband is apparently involved, and they have a Web site with posted menus.
Let's have a look! If you load their Web site, you'll see this:
Tea for two for £25? Yes please! And what does this tea consist of? Let's have a look! If you read their menu, you'll see this:
This afternoon, Dan and I arrived promptly at 3 pm to enjoy our delicious afternoon tea. And guess what the menu they handed us looked like? Here it is - take a look!
That's right - there is no afternoon tea at the Ashmolean Dining Room!
Dear Ashmolean Dining Room staff: If you don't actually sell something - e.g. afternoon tea - then please don't put it on your Web site or on the online version of your menu. Some of your overseas visitors may be in England for only a very limited time; when this is the case, they often plan where they're going to be eating in advance so as to optimize their vacation plans. And when you're totally moronic and post menus that don't actually exist to your Web site, it's, well, really fucking lame of you. Thank you.
PS. I wound up having tea at the motorway services just before getting back on the motorway to London. I hate to say it, but it was better than your £25 tea will ever be because it actually existed.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009, 8:00 pm
Last week before leaving California for London, I decided that it would be fun to have a cream tea whilst in England. After a quick look around, it seemed like the best option would be to check out the new Ashmolean Dining Room in Oxford. After all, Jancis Robinson's husband is apparently involved, and they have a Web site with posted menus.
Let's have a look! If you load their Web site, you'll see this:
Tea for two for £25? Yes please! And what does this tea consist of? Let's have a look! If you read their menu, you'll see this:
This afternoon, Dan and I arrived promptly at 3 pm to enjoy our delicious afternoon tea. And guess what the menu they handed us looked like? Here it is - take a look!
That's right - there is no afternoon tea at the Ashmolean Dining Room!
Dear Ashmolean Dining Room staff: If you don't actually sell something - e.g. afternoon tea - then please don't put it on your Web site or on the online version of your menu. Some of your overseas visitors may be in England for only a very limited time; when this is the case, they often plan where they're going to be eating in advance so as to optimize their vacation plans. And when you're totally moronic and post menus that don't actually exist to your Web site, it's, well, really fucking lame of you. Thank you.
PS. I wound up having tea at the motorway services just before getting back on the motorway to London. I hate to say it, but it was better than your £25 tea will ever be because it actually existed.
Lunch menu, The Sportsman
Tuesday, November 24, 2009, 11:06 am
My parents are making Thanksgiving dinner for us this Thursday; to repay the favor (and quite frankly because I was really, really curious about this place), we drove out to a small pub near Whitstable called The Sportsman. My Dad had to phone them up a few weeks ago to book the tasting menu for the four of us; this is a scan of the menu.
Not on the menu but which we enjoyed regardless: rock oysters with house cured bacon, herring on bread, crusted pork belly with a sort of mint sauce, pear ice lollies in ginger milk, chocolate brownies, a sort of fresh apple ice cream with something like Pop Rocks in it, tangerine ice cream (and oh my God, I cannot describe how good that was), and finally New Zealand sparkling wine (Pelorus, my favorite) and a bottle of Argentine Torrontes. I didn't drink either of them as I was driving, but I'm sure they were just fine.
At this point in the day - it took about four hours to make our way through all of this amazing food - I'm kind of feeling like I'll never eat again, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat. If you're ever in London, this place is absolutely worth a road trip. Amazingly enough, it was even ridiculously good value - let's just say that there it doesn't often happen that you splurge on a really good meal and feel that you unquestionably got your money's worth. This is the best meal I've had since Alinea many years ago.
Finally, I have to say that the staff were absolutely amazing - warm, friendly, obviously proud of their food. They really made the experience.
Oh, and Imelda Staunton was sitting next to me. I had no idea she was so short!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009, 11:06 am
My parents are making Thanksgiving dinner for us this Thursday; to repay the favor (and quite frankly because I was really, really curious about this place), we drove out to a small pub near Whitstable called The Sportsman. My Dad had to phone them up a few weeks ago to book the tasting menu for the four of us; this is a scan of the menu.
Not on the menu but which we enjoyed regardless: rock oysters with house cured bacon, herring on bread, crusted pork belly with a sort of mint sauce, pear ice lollies in ginger milk, chocolate brownies, a sort of fresh apple ice cream with something like Pop Rocks in it, tangerine ice cream (and oh my God, I cannot describe how good that was), and finally New Zealand sparkling wine (Pelorus, my favorite) and a bottle of Argentine Torrontes. I didn't drink either of them as I was driving, but I'm sure they were just fine.
At this point in the day - it took about four hours to make our way through all of this amazing food - I'm kind of feeling like I'll never eat again, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat. If you're ever in London, this place is absolutely worth a road trip. Amazingly enough, it was even ridiculously good value - let's just say that there it doesn't often happen that you splurge on a really good meal and feel that you unquestionably got your money's worth. This is the best meal I've had since Alinea many years ago.
Finally, I have to say that the staff were absolutely amazing - warm, friendly, obviously proud of their food. They really made the experience.
Oh, and Imelda Staunton was sitting next to me. I had no idea she was so short!
Was ist das?
Friday, November 6, 2009, 12:27 pm
It's Friday, and there's some experimentation going on at the office...
Friday, November 6, 2009, 12:27 pm
It's Friday, and there's some experimentation going on at the office...
This sign is ruining my drive home from work
Monday, October 19, 2009, 6:30 pm
There are two psychic centers, known as chakras, that are mainly responsible for clairvoyant visions. These are located in the center of the forehead and at the top of the head. Visualize doors closing over these centers and the flow of impressions will cease. Imagine them opening and the visions will begin again. Now, imagine them opening and closing on the face of the fucking moron who approved this sign. Peace be upon you.
Monday, October 19, 2009, 6:30 pm
There are two psychic centers, known as chakras, that are mainly responsible for clairvoyant visions. These are located in the center of the forehead and at the top of the head. Visualize doors closing over these centers and the flow of impressions will cease. Imagine them opening and the visions will begin again. Now, imagine them opening and closing on the face of the fucking moron who approved this sign. Peace be upon you.
Randomness
Wednesday, October 14, 2009, 10:15 am
I haven't posted in ages. Here's some random stuff in lieu of an actual post:
I turned 40 last month. To celebrate, I took the week off and went to Mexico City with Temo, Mike, and Dan. We rented a fabulous penthouse apartment and spent the week walking around, eating really well, climbing pyramids, and doing lots of cool tourist stuff like eating ice cream in Coyoacan, getting lost on the UNAM bus system, and finally seeing some Frida Kahlo paintings that were undeniably awesome. Say what you will, the woman could paint.
Awesome high points of the week: we ate at Pujol to celebrate my birthday and (amazingly) got to see Erik Truffaz + Murcof perform live at the Lunario. I never thought I'd get the chance to see Murcof live, but there you go. Bonus: nonstop beer service during the show. God damn I love Mexico.
Anyhow, go check out the pictures here and here.
Dan and I also went to New Orleans over Labor Day weekend. We mostly just walked around in the rain in an aimless vibe-digging kind of way. The WWII museum was pretty awesome; better yet, we found some new deli-esque kind of place nearby called Pig or something, where we had foie gras and funky Argentine viognier, or something. Totally my kind of long weekend. Also, I have to admit that the Big Gulp-esque frozen White Russians were pretty damn tasty.
There was also a lengthy business trip to Montréal, where I was fortunate to see Kent Monkman's Dance of Two Spirits at the Museum of Fine Arts, which was fucking awesome. Miss Chief Eagle Testickle has got it goin' on.
I've also been drinking really well lately: highlights included a Beaujolais from Côte de Brouilly that was all earthy spice and dark strawberries, a Jasnières that was mind-blowingly good (only $15 at the San Diego Wine Company), and a bunch of other cool stuff (even the Wayne Gretzsky meritage was pretty good). Full Pour's going gangbusters, lots of good traffic over there, definitely check it out if you haven't already.
I'm tentatively thinking about having some folks over for something called Have a Cigare, which would be a vertical tasting of Bonny Doon Le Cigare Volante from the past decade or so, but I'm not sure if there'd be any interest from San Diego folks.
Finally, that reminds me: Bonny Doon winemaker and President-for-Life Randall Grahm's Been Doon So Long is the best damn book I've read all year. It's basically what the new Pynchon novel would have been if it didn't suck (sorry, but Inherent Vice is one E-Z readin' letdown so far). If you enjoy Pynchon, Joyce, or drinking (preferably all three), then you owe it to yourself to buy a copy. Honest.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009, 10:15 am
I haven't posted in ages. Here's some random stuff in lieu of an actual post:
I turned 40 last month. To celebrate, I took the week off and went to Mexico City with Temo, Mike, and Dan. We rented a fabulous penthouse apartment and spent the week walking around, eating really well, climbing pyramids, and doing lots of cool tourist stuff like eating ice cream in Coyoacan, getting lost on the UNAM bus system, and finally seeing some Frida Kahlo paintings that were undeniably awesome. Say what you will, the woman could paint.
Awesome high points of the week: we ate at Pujol to celebrate my birthday and (amazingly) got to see Erik Truffaz + Murcof perform live at the Lunario. I never thought I'd get the chance to see Murcof live, but there you go. Bonus: nonstop beer service during the show. God damn I love Mexico.
Anyhow, go check out the pictures here and here.
Dan and I also went to New Orleans over Labor Day weekend. We mostly just walked around in the rain in an aimless vibe-digging kind of way. The WWII museum was pretty awesome; better yet, we found some new deli-esque kind of place nearby called Pig or something, where we had foie gras and funky Argentine viognier, or something. Totally my kind of long weekend. Also, I have to admit that the Big Gulp-esque frozen White Russians were pretty damn tasty.
There was also a lengthy business trip to Montréal, where I was fortunate to see Kent Monkman's Dance of Two Spirits at the Museum of Fine Arts, which was fucking awesome. Miss Chief Eagle Testickle has got it goin' on.
I've also been drinking really well lately: highlights included a Beaujolais from Côte de Brouilly that was all earthy spice and dark strawberries, a Jasnières that was mind-blowingly good (only $15 at the San Diego Wine Company), and a bunch of other cool stuff (even the Wayne Gretzsky meritage was pretty good). Full Pour's going gangbusters, lots of good traffic over there, definitely check it out if you haven't already.
I'm tentatively thinking about having some folks over for something called Have a Cigare, which would be a vertical tasting of Bonny Doon Le Cigare Volante from the past decade or so, but I'm not sure if there'd be any interest from San Diego folks.
Finally, that reminds me: Bonny Doon winemaker and President-for-Life Randall Grahm's Been Doon So Long is the best damn book I've read all year. It's basically what the new Pynchon novel would have been if it didn't suck (sorry, but Inherent Vice is one E-Z readin' letdown so far). If you enjoy Pynchon, Joyce, or drinking (preferably all three), then you owe it to yourself to buy a copy. Honest.
Tout va bien
Friday, September 18, 2009, 7:45 pm
After an amazing lunch of raviolis (think won tons) with Oaxacan black molé at Azul y Oro restaurant way down south on the UNAM campus, we headed back into town on the metro today... and then stopped one station later, at Copilco, where nothing happened for fifteen minutes. We gave up, left, fought a hundred chilangos for a taxi, and caught one back home to the Centro Historico. Along the way, we listened to Mexican talk radio, where there was a lot of talk about two deaths, a total shutdown of the subway system, and a lot of other things I couldn't understand.
Long story short, we're home safe and sound - and we're off to a concert at the Lunario in a few minutes.
Friday, September 18, 2009, 7:45 pm
After an amazing lunch of raviolis (think won tons) with Oaxacan black molé at Azul y Oro restaurant way down south on the UNAM campus, we headed back into town on the metro today... and then stopped one station later, at Copilco, where nothing happened for fifteen minutes. We gave up, left, fought a hundred chilangos for a taxi, and caught one back home to the Centro Historico. Along the way, we listened to Mexican talk radio, where there was a lot of talk about two deaths, a total shutdown of the subway system, and a lot of other things I couldn't understand.
Long story short, we're home safe and sound - and we're off to a concert at the Lunario in a few minutes.
Oops? v2.0
Wednesday, September 9, 2009, 1:30 pm
You know you're not going to solve your problem quickly when you Google the error message you got while you were trying to install iTunes 9.0 and found your LiveJournal post from 09/09/2008 that details the exact same error.
I'm still trying to fix it but haven't figured out how. Meanwhile, the Windows Installer Clean Up Setup app seems to have hung. Grrrr.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009, 1:30 pm
You know you're not going to solve your problem quickly when you Google the error message you got while you were trying to install iTunes 9.0 and found your LiveJournal post from 09/09/2008 that details the exact same error.
I'm still trying to fix it but haven't figured out how. Meanwhile, the Windows Installer Clean Up Setup app seems to have hung. Grrrr.
Idle thoughts v2.0
Friday, September 4, 2009, 7:30 am
No time to properly flesh this out - we're off to the airport in just a bit - but after talking with Dan last night, here's another thing to consider. I believe it was Bertrand Russell who, when asked if he could ask one question of God, remarked that it would be simple: Why don't you offer us more proof of your existence? (I'm paraphrasing, of course.)
Because there is no proof of God, it stands to reason that many believers would in fact like there to be some proof that God does exist, that He is actively taking an interest in their lives. Surely the murder of innocents - aka abortion - is so evil that He must want to stop it. Therefore, if we could only stop abortion, that would prove that there is a God because He was at the very least able to stop one outrageously evil thing from happening in this fallen world.
But of course there is no God. Still, if our government only resembled the imaginary theocracy we all inherently desire, then at least we would have proof of God in the form of a Godly government, a government that outlaws everything contrary to His law. In a theocracy, you can be certain that God exists because He has been instantiated in the form of anti-abortion laws, the mutaween, or whatever particular variant you are currently enjoying. You'll sleep better at night knowing that God exists because He is actively preventing you from doing things you know you shouldn't be doing (coveting your neighbor's wife or what have you) and preventing your neighbors from doing things you know they shouldn't be doing (like teh buttseks).
Friday, September 4, 2009, 7:30 am
No time to properly flesh this out - we're off to the airport in just a bit - but after talking with Dan last night, here's another thing to consider. I believe it was Bertrand Russell who, when asked if he could ask one question of God, remarked that it would be simple: Why don't you offer us more proof of your existence? (I'm paraphrasing, of course.)
Because there is no proof of God, it stands to reason that many believers would in fact like there to be some proof that God does exist, that He is actively taking an interest in their lives. Surely the murder of innocents - aka abortion - is so evil that He must want to stop it. Therefore, if we could only stop abortion, that would prove that there is a God because He was at the very least able to stop one outrageously evil thing from happening in this fallen world.
But of course there is no God. Still, if our government only resembled the imaginary theocracy we all inherently desire, then at least we would have proof of God in the form of a Godly government, a government that outlaws everything contrary to His law. In a theocracy, you can be certain that God exists because He has been instantiated in the form of anti-abortion laws, the mutaween, or whatever particular variant you are currently enjoying. You'll sleep better at night knowing that God exists because He is actively preventing you from doing things you know you shouldn't be doing (coveting your neighbor's wife or what have you) and preventing your neighbors from doing things you know they shouldn't be doing (like teh buttseks).
Lagging!
Thursday, September 3, 2009, 6:45 pm
At this rate, I'm way behind schedule!
Bonus countries I've visited but which don't exist today: the USSR, the CSSR, and the GDR. Bonus place I've visited which thinks it's a country: the Hutt River Province.
Also: what's up with not listing Mexico's states individually? C'mon, you guys can do better than that!
Thursday, September 3, 2009, 6:45 pm
At this rate, I'm way behind schedule!
Bonus countries I've visited but which don't exist today: the USSR, the CSSR, and the GDR. Bonus place I've visited which thinks it's a country: the Hutt River Province.
Also: what's up with not listing Mexico's states individually? C'mon, you guys can do better than that!
Idle thoughts
Thursday, September 3, 2009, 4:30 pm
First off, I don't think I've ever mentioned it explicitly, but it helps to know that I work in the health care industry.
Today I helped out a colleague with a question that originated at one of our customers. Long story short, I had to look up the hospital's Web site to verify their address (which I use to keep track of what software I installed, etc.). Here's the image prominently displayed on their Web site:
I have to admit that I was stunned: I wasn't expecting a hospital to direct you to the National Right to Life Foundation so that you can more easily contact your congressperson to demand an end to health care reform.
One thing to keep in mind during all of this debate and anger is that quite a bit of the anger may have to do with abortion. I hadn't realized this until I saw their Web site, but it's true. This is a Catholic hospital run by a religious order, and it's clear that they are absolutely scared out of their wits that any expansion in the availability of health care at all may result in more abortions being performed.
Thinking about it a bit more, I wondered why Americans seem to be so obsessed with abortion. I've lived in other, much more Catholic places in my life: Swabia comes to mind, where "may God greet you" is a not uncommon greeting and there are more crucifixes on the walls than I care to remember. And how many times did I hear abortion discussed during the year I lived there? Not once. Never.
I think I've decided that Americans worry about abortion because so many of us are deeply unhappy. When you grow up in a society that doesn't give two shits about you, not bothering to educate you, feed you, or pay any attention to your basic medical needs, when you've spent your entire life just barely getting by, doing your best to deal with usurious interest rates, avoid heavy rates of incarcerations, onerous restrictions on your personal freedoms (such as prohibition of soft drugs), you name it, then you absolutely need to imagine a world in which you are cared for, where you're wanted, where you're loved.
Religion is a start, yes, but it's hard to instantiate it, to make it real, tangible. The reason Americans care so deeply about abortion is because the fetus is a displacement for ourselves. In a world that seems to threaten to abort us at any time, we can only conquer that when we prevent an actual abortion. When a woman decides to terminate a pregnancy, we re-map her decision onto the decisions made by our society as a whole: instead of seeing an intensely personal, difficult, painful decision made out of a fierce desire to do what is right for the child - that is, not bring it into a world in which it cannot be provided for, nurtured, or loved - we imagine that if only the child were to be born, it would be born into a loving, providing, nurturing environment which we ourselves never experienced.
In short, because we do not view ourselves as living in a world worth living in, we must imagine that the only world worth living in is the one into which children will be born. That world does not exist, but it is not because of abortion; preventing abortions will not bring that world to pass.
We are in this undesirable world entirely because of the collective decisions we have made. Until we decide to take care of our sick, to educate our children, to reward labor fairly, we will not be able to enter that other world. Preventing all abortion is a wish fulfillment fantasy that distracts us from the real problems we all face.
Thursday, September 3, 2009, 4:30 pm
First off, I don't think I've ever mentioned it explicitly, but it helps to know that I work in the health care industry.
Today I helped out a colleague with a question that originated at one of our customers. Long story short, I had to look up the hospital's Web site to verify their address (which I use to keep track of what software I installed, etc.). Here's the image prominently displayed on their Web site:
I have to admit that I was stunned: I wasn't expecting a hospital to direct you to the National Right to Life Foundation so that you can more easily contact your congressperson to demand an end to health care reform.
One thing to keep in mind during all of this debate and anger is that quite a bit of the anger may have to do with abortion. I hadn't realized this until I saw their Web site, but it's true. This is a Catholic hospital run by a religious order, and it's clear that they are absolutely scared out of their wits that any expansion in the availability of health care at all may result in more abortions being performed.
Thinking about it a bit more, I wondered why Americans seem to be so obsessed with abortion. I've lived in other, much more Catholic places in my life: Swabia comes to mind, where "may God greet you" is a not uncommon greeting and there are more crucifixes on the walls than I care to remember. And how many times did I hear abortion discussed during the year I lived there? Not once. Never.
I think I've decided that Americans worry about abortion because so many of us are deeply unhappy. When you grow up in a society that doesn't give two shits about you, not bothering to educate you, feed you, or pay any attention to your basic medical needs, when you've spent your entire life just barely getting by, doing your best to deal with usurious interest rates, avoid heavy rates of incarcerations, onerous restrictions on your personal freedoms (such as prohibition of soft drugs), you name it, then you absolutely need to imagine a world in which you are cared for, where you're wanted, where you're loved.
Religion is a start, yes, but it's hard to instantiate it, to make it real, tangible. The reason Americans care so deeply about abortion is because the fetus is a displacement for ourselves. In a world that seems to threaten to abort us at any time, we can only conquer that when we prevent an actual abortion. When a woman decides to terminate a pregnancy, we re-map her decision onto the decisions made by our society as a whole: instead of seeing an intensely personal, difficult, painful decision made out of a fierce desire to do what is right for the child - that is, not bring it into a world in which it cannot be provided for, nurtured, or loved - we imagine that if only the child were to be born, it would be born into a loving, providing, nurturing environment which we ourselves never experienced.
In short, because we do not view ourselves as living in a world worth living in, we must imagine that the only world worth living in is the one into which children will be born. That world does not exist, but it is not because of abortion; preventing abortions will not bring that world to pass.
We are in this undesirable world entirely because of the collective decisions we have made. Until we decide to take care of our sick, to educate our children, to reward labor fairly, we will not be able to enter that other world. Preventing all abortion is a wish fulfillment fantasy that distracts us from the real problems we all face.