Good Reads

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I saw you on the Manhattan-bound Brooklyn Q train.

I was wearing a blue-striped t-shirt and a pair of maroon pants. You were wearing a vintage red skirt and a smart white blouse. We both wore glasses. I guess we still do.

You got on at DeKalb and sat across from me and we made eye contact, briefly. I fell in love with you a little bit, in that stupid way where you completely make up a fictional version of the person you're looking at and fall in love with that person. But still I think there was something there.

Several times we looked at each other and then looked away. I tried to think of something to say to you — maybe pretend I didn't know where I was going and ask you for directions or say something nice about your boot-shaped earrings, or just say, "Hot day." It all seemed so stupid.

At one point, I caught you staring at me and you immediately averted your eyes. You pulled a book out of your bag and started reading it — a biography of Lyndon Johnson — but I noticed you never once turned a page.

My stop was Union Square, but at Union Square I decided to stay on, rationalizing that I could just as easily transfer to the 7 at 42nd Street, but then I didn't get off at 42nd Street either. You must have missed your stop as well, because when we got all the way to the end of the line at Ditmars, we both just sat there in the car, waiting.

I cocked my head at you inquisitively. You shrugged and held up your book as if that was the reason.

Still I said nothing...​
 
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Mosquitos were born to bite us, and aside from lighting worthless tiki candles, haplessly swatting them away, or resorting to spraying toxic DEET all over ourselves, there’s really not a whole lot we can do about it. Imagine then, if you could be encapsulated in an anti-mosquito bubble simply by wearing a small square sticker. Not only would it save mosquito-magnets like myself some really uncomfortable moments, it could be a major game changer in the way we prevent mosquito-borne illnesses like Malaria, Dengue Fever, and West Nile Virus.

The good news is that a sticker like this is not some far away concept dreamed up by scientists in a lab–it’s actually a real thing that you’ll likely be able to find on the shelves of your local Walgreens sometime in the not-so-distant future.

Essentially, the Kite Patch is a little square sticker that emits a cloak of chemical compounds that blocks a mosquito’s ability to sense humans. According to its developers, users simply have to place the patch onto their clothes, and they become invisible to mosquitoes for up to 48 hours. This is big news for developing countries like Uganda, where residents have little beyond mosquito nets and toxic sprays to combat the illness-spreading insects.
...
Though the Kite seems a little fantastical, it’s backed by some legitimate technology. Back in 2011, Dr. Anandasankar Ray, an entomologist at the University of California, Riverside (and founder of Olfactor Labs), found that certain chemical compounds can inhibit the carbon dioxide receptors in mosquitoes. These smelly compounds, which act like a anti-mosquito force field, are able to disorient the bugs, whose main method of tracking down humans is through our exhalation of CO2.​
- read the full article This Little Sticker Works Like an Anti-Mosquito Force Field (from Wired)
 
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When James Brown died on Christmas Day 2006, he left behind a fortune worth tens, maybe hundreds, of millions of dollars. The problem is, he also left behind fourteen children, sixteen grandchildren, eight mothers of his children, several mistresses, thirty lawyers, a former manager, an aging dancer, a longtime valet, and a sister who's really not a sister but calls herself the Godsister of Soul anyway. All of whom want a piece of his legacy​
- read the full article Papa (from GQ)
 
Yes, this is awesome.

i haven't read john nathan's biography, but i have read a lot about him and nearly all of his novels.

the film of course, one of my favorite films. i even have the phillip glass soundtrack for it ;)
 
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In a remarkable paper Allison et al. (2011) gather data on the weight at mid-life from 12 animal populations covering 8 different species all living in human environments. Dividing the sample into male and female they find that in all 24 cases animal weight has increased over the past several decades.

Cats and dogs, for example, both increased in weight. Female cats increased in body weight at a rate of 13.6% per decade and males at 5.7% per decade. Female dogs increased in body weight at a rate of 3% per decade and males at a rate of 2.2% per decade.

One ready, although not necessarily correct explanation, is that fat people feed their cats and dogs more and exercise them less. Thus, the authors also looked at animals not directly under human control such as rats.​
- read the full article The Animals are Also Getting Fat (from Marginal Revolution)
 

When I first meet a likable young Labrador named Merry, she is clearing her nostrils with nine or ten sharp snorts before she snuffles along a row of luggage pieces, all different makes and models. They’re lined up against the back wall of a large hangar on a country road outside Hartford, Connecticut. This is where MSA Security trains what are known in the security trade as explosive detection canines, or EDCs. Most people call them bomb dogs.

The luggage pieces joined bicycles, suitcases, shrink-wrapped pallets, car-shaped cutouts and concrete blocks on the campus of MSA’s Bomb Dog U. Dogs don’t need to be taught how to smell, of course, but they do need to be taught where to smell—along the seams of a suitcase, say, or underneath a pallet where the vapors that are heavier than air settle.

In the shrouded world of bomb dog education, MSA is one of the elite academies. It currently fields 160 teams working mostly in New York, Washington, D.C., Boston, Chicago and Dallas—the dogs always work in tandem with the same handler, usually for eight or nine years. MSA also furnishes dogs for what it will only describe as “a government agency referred to by three initials for use in Middle East conflict zones.”​
- read the full article The Education of a Bomb Dog (from Smithsonian Magazine)
 
In case you've been wondering what Werner Herzog has been up to...

Leave it to Werner Herzog to take the driver safety video to new heights. From One Second To The Next is a 35-minute documentary film by Herzog on the dangers of texting while driving.​
- read the full article From One Second To The Next (from Kottke)
 
In case you've been wondering what Werner Herzog has been up to...

Leave it to Werner Herzog to take the driver safety video to new heights. From One Second To The Next is a 35-minute documentary film by Herzog on the dangers of texting while driving.​
- read the full article From One Second To The Next (from Kottke)


He's one of the few willing to address the subject of "stupid" humans. I will never look at a grizzly the same way after seeing Grizzly Man. Tim Treadwell was asking for it— and, by god, he got it.


At least Treadwell only took one other innocent naïf with him.


The idiot texter-drivers threaten to make me a victim of their stupidity.


If they do, I have promised to rise from the dead and cut off their testicles/clitoris very slowly with a rusty fork.




 
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On a sponsored media trip to McDonald’s US headquarters in Oak Brook, Illinois, Barbara J. Booth, the company’s director of sensory science, told Kim Bhasin of Business Insider that Chicken McNuggets come in four carefully designed shapes: the “bell,” the “bone,” the “ball,” and the “boot.”

On the Q&A page of the McDonald’s Canada site, the company confirms that there are indeed four McNugget shapes, although they steer away from the unnervingly meaty connotations of the “bone,” referring to it as a “bow-tie,” instead. This disclosure is made in response to a question from Michael F. from St. John’s, Newfoundland: “How come the boot-shaped are so much more appealing than the oval-shaped ones?”​
- read the full article The Shape of Cheese and Chicken McNuggets (from Edible Geography)
 
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Think of your mouth as being in a constant state of disease.

That is the conclusion of scientists who completed the first detailed study of how mouth bacteria have changed from the Stone Age to modern times.

In fact, our teeth and gums are generally in worse shape than our cave-dwelling ancestors, said the senior author of the study, Alan Cooper who is director of the Australian Centre for Ancient DNA at the University of Adelaide.

What’s to blame? Our shift to a carbohydrate-rich diet – especially the increased consumption of processed sugar – fostered the growth of certain bacteria that cause gum disease and dental decay, according to the findings published in the journal Nature Genetics.​
- read the full article Stone Age cave dwellers had healthier mouths than we do (from The Globe and Mail)
 
http://beta.images.theglobeandmail.com/d9c/life/health-and-fitness/health-navigator/article8930972.ece/ALTERNATES/w620/teeth22lf.JPG

Think of your mouth as being in a constant state of disease.

That is the conclusion of scientists who completed the first detailed study of how mouth bacteria have changed from the Stone Age to modern times.

In fact, our teeth and gums are generally in worse shape than our cave-dwelling ancestors, said the senior author of the study, Alan Cooper who is director of the Australian Centre for Ancient DNA at the University of Adelaide.

What’s to blame? Our shift to a carbohydrate-rich diet – especially the increased consumption of processed sugar – fostered the growth of certain bacteria that cause gum disease and dental decay, according to the findings published in the journal Nature Genetics.​
- read the full article Stone Age cave dwellers had healthier mouths than we do (from The Globe and Mail)

How many cavemen were running around killing mastodons when they were 65-years-old? If I had died 40 years ago, my teeth might have looked a little better, too.
 
Fauja Singh ran his first marathon at age 89 and became an international sensation. Now 101 years old, he will run his final race on Sunday in Hong Kong -- and try to find peace with a Guinness World Records slight.

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THE PARTY WOULD BEGIN just as soon as the race ended. And the race would end just after Fauja Singh crossed the line in 3,851st place. By finishing then -- by finishing at all -- Fauja would do what no man before him had ever done. Amid the bundled and cheering crowd in Toronto, underneath a distended but gracious sky, he would complete a marathon. And he would do so at 100 years old.

Was it pain he felt as he approached the end, just footsteps away from redefining the limits of human endurance? No, this wasn't pain. Fauja knew pain. Pain was death -- you see plenty of that when you live 100 years. Pain was bloody limbs and overtaxed joints -- you get too much of that when you insist on completing every race you ever start. This wasn't pain but exhaustion. And Fauja could handle exhaustion, because exhaustion foreshadowed euphoria. When Fauja got tired, it often meant a record would soon fall.

He'd already broken a few. Fastest to run a marathon (male, over age 90), fastest to run 5,000 meters (male, over age 100), fastest to run 3,000 meters (male, over age 100), and on and on they went. But those records didn't roll off the tongue the way this one would. Oldest person to complete a marathon (male): Fauja Singh. The other feats had earned him recognition from the Masters Federation websites. This one would put him in the Guinness World Records. An official with the company had contacted Fauja's coach, Harmander Singh (no relation) several weeks earlier. Harmander told Fauja that Guinness would send representatives to watch Fauja run in the Toronto Waterfront Marathon, and as soon as he finished, they would award him the recognition he deserved.​
- read the full article The Runner (from ESPN)
 
How many cavemen were running around killing mastodons when they were 65-years-old? If I had died 40 years ago, my teeth might have looked a little better, too.

True. But I think they're referring to the notable lack of bacteria-related gum disease in ancient mouths - disease created by the high amount of bacteria found in our modern mouths, feeding on our sugar/carb-rich diets.
 
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The serious science fiction film derives its story and aesthetic from a concept that does not yet, as we know it, exist—aliens, robots, spaceships, time-travel—and the rest of the movie examines the repercussions of that science fiction idea. Serious science fiction (like Children of Men) has people or society at its center. And this may sound axiomatic, but the serious science fiction film takes its concept seriously. Often the proof of this serious devil is in the details. In Contact, Jodie Foster’s Ellie worries that everyone is okay with installing a chair into the nifty spacepod the aliens told us to build, even though the schematics said nothing about a chair. The real-world answer is “because it’s a movie,” but the fact that the script addresses the chair at all is part of what makes it a serious science fiction film. The chair also serves to introduce more doubt about whether the spacepod functions—but mostly, the movie actually wonders about how the science fiction would function in a real-life situation.
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While The Terminator films aren't technically serious SF, they are emblematic of the general problem with an anti-technology knee-jerk tendency in nearly all Hollywood SF. (The third film is moronically subtitled "Rise of the Machines.") This subtitle could be attached to nearly every major science fiction film ever: most big-league SF leans heavily on dystopia. (The Alien franchise, at its early best, is a reasonable pro-science capitalist-ruin dystopia; as the franchise proceeds and degrades, it turns against science as well.)
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All stories need conflict, and big movies really need big conflict. No one wants to leave a SF movie thinking, “Wow that really was an accurate meditation on science fiction in a realistic setting.” But the vast majority of science fiction films—even the very best of them—still see the SF, the tech, the speculative concept, as the antagonist of the film. We had a regular movie here until this spacepod showed up, and now, it’s all going down!

But literary source material doesn’t have to be like that.
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I would prefer an abundance of senseless sex to the amount of endlessly uncreative violence in today’s big science fiction films—which is all of the films, really. With the exception of Titanic, the top-grossing fifty films are all SF or fantasy. The oldest of them are very, very different than the ones we have today. Yes, the endlessly ammunitioned Terminator existed, but there were also big films like E.T., Back to the Future, Starman, Enemy Mine, and Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. None of these films are overtly violent—and neither do they take an anti-science or anti-science-fiction stance toward their subject matter.

For all the great special effects and enormous, booming noises our films are bringing us now, the majority of science fiction films have forgotten the one thing science fiction is supposed to do: make us think about the future. Thinking, we have forgotten, is not the same as worrying.​
- read the full article Our Science Fiction Movies Hate Science Fiction (from The Awl)
 
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Think about it, when was the last time you asked for directions? Or even used a paper map? Armed with smart phones and fancy GPS apps that map the route to your destination in milliseconds, asking a random person for directions is an increasingly rare occurrence. New York conceptual artist Nobutaka Aozaki is exploring the act of asking for directions in his ongoing art piece, Here to There, by gathering a collection of impromptu hand-drawn maps he obtains from complete strangers. Dressed as a tourist in a souvenir baseball cap and carrying a Century 21 shopping bag, the artist hits the streets around Manhattan and approaches random pedestrians to inquire about directions through the current part of the map he’s working on.​
 
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Think about it, when was the last time you asked for directions? Or even used a paper map? Armed with smart phones and fancy GPS apps that map the route to your destination in milliseconds, asking a random person for directions is an increasingly rare occurrence. New York conceptual artist Nobutaka Aozaki is exploring the act of asking for directions in his ongoing art piece, Here to There, by gathering a collection of impromptu hand-drawn maps he obtains from complete strangers. Dressed as a tourist in a souvenir baseball cap and carrying a Century 21 shopping bag, the artist hits the streets around Manhattan and approaches random pedestrians to inquire about directions through the current part of the map he’s working on.​

This is cool. Maps are always cool, and spontaneous maps are among the coolest. They give you a better idea of what peoples' perceptions of the space is, rather than what the measurements are. I love maps.
 
Orson Scott Card is coming out with "Ender's Game" - which isn't my favorite book of his, but he's in the news. I'm probably going to absentee boycott out of lack of interest in the story.

BUT...one of my favorite books that nobody else has ever read is "Lost Boys" and I can't even say why, alas, without monster spoilers.

Has anybody else gotten through this to the end? The end that kicks my ass every time I re-read or re-listen to it, at least once a year?
 
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The body of William Sparkman Jr., a 51-year-old census worker, was found in 2009 in an isolated cemetery in the Appalachian region of Kentucky. He hung naked from a tree, hands bound, the word FED scrawled in black marker across his chest. Sparkman's death briefly made headlines: to some, it seemed to implicate our polarized politics; to others, a region long known for its insularity. And then the case disappeared from the national view. Here is the story of what really happened to Bill Sparkman, a complex man whom few people truly knew.​
- read the full article The Hanging (from The Atlantic)
 
http://cdn.theatlantic.com/static/newsroom/img/2013/02/15/0313-WEL-Schapiro-Census-Murder_lede/mag-article-large.jpg?mia3yv

The body of William Sparkman Jr., a 51-year-old census worker, was found in 2009 in an isolated cemetery in the Appalachian region of Kentucky. He hung naked from a tree, hands bound, the word FED scrawled in black marker across his chest. Sparkman's death briefly made headlines: to some, it seemed to implicate our polarized politics; to others, a region long known for its insularity. And then the case disappeared from the national view. Here is the story of what really happened to Bill Sparkman, a complex man whom few people truly knew.​
- read the full article The Hanging (from The Atlantic)


People remember the story. No one knows the outcome. Never, ever forget that, in the end, the mainstream media is essentially a bunch of professional gossips.


 
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