Ig Nobel Prizes

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Funny stuff. The Ig Nobel Prizes were awarded yesterday. They honor people whose achievements "cannot or should not be reproduced."
My favorites:
MEDICINE
Peter Barss of McGill University, for his impactful medical report "Injuries Due to Falling Coconuts."
PUBLISHED IN: The Journal of rauma, vol. 21, no. 11, 1984, pp. 990-1.
PHYSICS
David Schmidt of the University of Massachusetts for his partial solution to the question of why shower curtains billow inwards.
BIOLOGY
Buck Weimer of Pueblo, Colorado for inventing Under-Ease, airtight underwear with a replaceable charcoal filter that removes bad-smelling gases before they escape.
LITERATURE
John Richards of Boston, England, founder of The Apostrophe Protection Society,
for his efforts to protect, promote, and defend the differences between plural and possessive.
PSYCHOLOGY
Lawrence W. Sherman of Miami University, Ohio, for his influential research report "An Ecological Study of Glee in Small Groups of Preschool children."
PUBLISHED IN: Child Development, vol. 46, no. 1, March 1975, pp. 53-61.
ASTROPHYSICS
Dr. Jack and Rexella Van Impe of Jack Van Impe Ministries, Rochester Hills, Michigan, for their discovery that black holes fulfill all the technical requirements to be the location of Hell.
REFERENCE: The March 31, 2001 television and Internet broadcast of the "Jack Van Impe Presents" program. (at about the 12 minute mark).
PEACE
Viliumas Malinauskus
of Grutas, Lithuania, for creating the amusement park known as "Stalin World."

Random notes Went to the

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Random notes


Went to the Mariners game against the Rangers. The
Rangers pitchers were horrendous. Barely could crack
85 mph on the radar gun, which in itself isn't necessarily
bad, but I've never seen so many breaking balls in the
dirt. By the 5th inning it was 12-1, and one Rangers
pitcher had been hit in the shin by a ball and wheeled
out on a modified wheelchair. A-Rod plays on a bad,
bad team. Bill and I left after the sixth inning, after 2
hours and 45 minutes of mind-numbing boredom.
Cubs need to fire Don Baylor. He has proven to be a lousy
manager, unable to communicate effectively with his players
and coaches, preferring to do his talking and managing through
the press, which is horrible. He should talk to his players
face to face, like men. His players gripe about him to the
press as well. He's not a very smart tactical manager,
either. Can the guy.
Saw the Annie Leibovitz "Women" exhibit with Bean. I
didn't think it was all that. Her subjects are all grim-faced,
solemn. Silent, unhappy, and way too serious. Maybe it's
some commentary on women's treatment by media or
society or something. I'd prefer to see some of them smiling,
or defiant. Something about posed portraiture, too, just
doesn't strike me as natural. Maybe I'm just jealous that
I don't have the equipment and connections to take some
of the shots she gets.
There is actually a photographer named Weegee! I saw
this book at the Seattle Art Museum gift shop.
A quick search at Amazon.com revealed lots of other
books by him as well. Apparently, he was a famous
news photographer. What a strange coincidence. I can
barely remember who started calling me Weegee out
here anyway, though I believe it had to do with a spreadsheet
I developed called Ouija (because it worked like black
magic), and then I think Susannah tacked on the
Sweet.
Bean might join some studio and be able to develop
photos for me. That would be cool. It's all voodoo to me.
Barry Bonds is putting up Nintendo numbers this year. His
on base percentage is .512 right now. That's right, every
other time up to the plate, he gets on base. That's sick.
His slugging percentage is currently the highest of all time,
.848. Higher than Babe Ruth in 1921! His swing is not
fluid, but it's brutally effective. Short, compact, rapid
rotation. I've never seen a hitter in such a zone for such
a long period of time. Unbelievable.
Rickey Henderson set the all-time runs record yesterday
as well. He's somewhat of a pompous ass, but between
him and Bonds, I can say I'm lucky enough to have seen
two of the top 5 leftfielders of all time. And Cal Ripken,
one of the top three shortstops of all time. And Clemens
and Maddux, two of the top 10 pitchers of all time.
And A-Rod, who might someday be the greatest shortstop
of all time. He hit his 52nd home run last night to a
smattering of boos. I wonder if he's happy, playing on that
lousy team. Many fans in Seattle were taunting him or
booing him, but I had to clap. He's just too good, the
best position player of his generation.
Oh yeah, and there's Pedro, the most dominating pitcher
I've ever seen. Of course, he always gets injured. Maybe he's
just too small to be a durable pitcher, but he's great. I loved
his quote about drilling the Bambino in the ass.

Band of Brothers It's hard

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Band of Brothers


It's hard to recognize too many individual characters. But perhaps
that is the story of war, which at times seems larger than any one
man. Spielberg and Hanks, with Saving Private Ryan and now
Band of Brothers, have achieved a new hyper-realistic depiction
of war which will change the way future moviemakers depict war,
the topics they choose to tackle.
I remember watching the miniseries North and South as a kid.
Is there any TV experience more gratifying than the weekly gathering
to catch the next episode of a high quality TV miniseries? Band of
Brothers doesn't quite have that as each episode can stand alone,
but it's better than anything on network TV. When's the last time
a network television channel came out with a good miniseries?

On the homeless bum: Gucci

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On the homeless bum: Gucci top, $1,895


News clip spotted at IMDb:
Pamela Anderson insists she wouldn't have thought
twice about shooting her lesbian stalker in the head
if she had had a gun. The mother of two was terrified
to find the crazed fan hiding in her house, and says
her training in weapons would have come in handy.
Pamela says, "If I had a gun, I would have shot her
in the head. I can shoot too. I've been trained in all
kinds of weaponry. I did a course for Barb Wire. I
can shoot bazookas, grenade launchers... I rock
with my Glock out. What's that line in Mommie
Dearest? 'Don't f*** with me, fellas, this ain't my first
time at the rodeo!'" Pam says she knew her stalker
was getting out of hand when her clothes started to
go missing and then she saw homeless people near
her house wearing her clothes. She says, "I'd see
girls and homeless people on the beach wearing
glittery bikini tops and hotpants and I'm like - that's
my stuff! She was giving my stuff to her friends! I
tell you, the homeless people looked great. Gucci
cut-offs, Louis Vuitton suitcases. They looked
fabulous."

Bad movies Most films receiving

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Bad movies


Most films receiving acclaim these days do so purely because they
differ from the usual junk being put out by Hollywood. But a lot of
these movies aren't really all that enjoyable either. I can't remember
the last time I went to a movie and just had a purely enjoyable time.
I feel robbed most days when I leave the theater, or pop a rental
out of the DVD player. Really, if films like Amores Perros and Sexy
Beast are all that people can recommend, moviegoers everywhere
are best advised to read a good book.

Studio in New York

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Happy birthday, Joannie! Got to celebrate with her in person in Chicago. She has the trappings of an adult now. An apartment in Chicago, a paying job, her very own shoe rack. Got to visit the courtroom where occasionally she has to jump up and shout "All rise! The court of the honorable Judge Holderman is in session!" or something like that. I think I have to see it to believe it. I still just want to put her in a headlock and give her a noogie.
Caught two Cubs games, both of which they won 6-2. In the second game, the Cubs hit 3 home runs on 3 consecutive pitches in the first inning, but I missed it. Derek, Joannie, Mike, and I were late and just missed those. Drats. The Wrigley Field experience is so different than the experience at Safeco Field or that of any modern stadium. Wrigley is like a heavenly playground field sprouted in the middle of a city, surrounded by wood seats the neighbors threw up to stop and watch. In between innings, there are no blooper reels on giant scoreboards to ponder. The view of the city from the field itself, the people on the buildings across the street, the ivy on the brick walls, and the bright green hue of the grass in the sunlight. It feels very intimate. It's amazing. I was so happy just to sit there and watch baseball.
Okay, no more weddings until November. A brief respite. All the weddings this month have worn me out and beat up my credit card a bit. But it was a good run. To counteract all this coupling up, though, Howie and Mark are now once again single. And loose on the UCLA campus. Hide the women and child-women.
If I ever get married, I want to hold it somewhere other than where I live, or my family live, or where her family lives. A place away from it all. More fun for all involved, even if it means a smaller party. The more people that travel there the better. When too many people live close by they all run out early.
Saw the Van Gogh-Gauguin exhibit at the Art Institute. It was instructive. Van Gogh was a great admirer of Gauguin and invited him to his yellow house (it was literally painted yellow) in Arles, France, to work together to fulfill Van Gogh's vision for a Studio of the South. Unfortunately, they disagreed on many topics of art, and over the course of just under a year, grew apart. Still, the two of them tried hard to make it work. In the end, though, just as Gauguin planned to leave, Van Gogh, upset and mentally imbalanced, cut off part of his ear and sent it to a prostitute. Gauguin brought Vincent's brother Theo to watch over him, then Gauguin left. A fascinating story. Joannie wonders if they were gay. I wonder if I could duplicate that type of artistic collaboration today. I've always had this idea that I'd gather some of my artist friends and go live together somewhere, perhaps New York (the city of the moment for me) and work together, inspiring each other to great work. Who's with me? I want to start my own Studio. Fiction, moviemaking, photography. I don't know enough about music and painting.
I had a sudden desire to learn all about Frank Lloyd Wright and architecture while I was in Chicago so Derek took me to tour the Robie House on the campus of the University of Chicago. I was quite inspired. Must learn more. Want to help to design my own house someday. The amazing thing is that the house was built in the early 1900's but still struck me as amazingly modern. I don't have a formal understanding of architecture, but I am familiar with its effect on and parallels with the construction of my mind. In an ideal world, I'd have my own house with a room dedicated to my writing. Today my computer is near my bed, and that juxtaposition deals havoc with my mental separation of work and sleep. Even my television is here in the same room with me. It's like a bachelor pad to the nth degree, and my writing suffers, if you can believe it. Hard to explain.
Jenny is trying to convince me to participate in National Novel Writing Month. An endurance event of the mind, she calls it. The challenge? Write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November, 2001. A 30 day month, so just under 2,000 words a day, which comes out to about 10 pages double spaced, with fat margins. Or, a short English paper every day. 30 short stories back to back. I picture myself, a pack of Dunhills, a bottle of Makers, a Remington typewriter, pieces of sunlight cut up by the blades of a desk fan, strobing my face. Better a mute typewriter than the computer, mocking me with its blinking cursor. Damn, I'm tempted though. What better excuse to write, write, write.
Am more than halfway through The Corrections. Very readable, for a novel, I must give Franzen that. Better written than most novels I've read in the past few years. Still, the topic, a dysfunctional modern family, depresses me.
One thing that suffered while I was home was my running. Kept planning to do it, then had to run out to see folks. Went to the shoe store today and they laughed at my old Adidas which they urged me to throw out right away. Bought some new shoes, and they prescribed some orthotics. Hopefully they'll alleviate my random pains. Took them out right away for a spin around the outside of Green Lake. Couldn't see anything and nearly tripped on rocks and roots along the dirt path a few times. All sorts of silent night runners ran by me. If one thing will keep me running, it's the frustration of being passed by fast moving skinny people all the time. Damn you fast skinny people.
Tim is urging me to do Death Ride with him next year. 16K vertical feet! Good lord. I barely survived 10K of vertical climbing this year in RAMROD. Still...

Faces

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Finally, portraits of the airline hijackers from Sept. 11. What do you see when you look at those faces? Suicidal terrorists? I wonder, how can another reasonable human being do such things? If I had lunch with one of these people, would I come away thinking that he could fly a plane into a building?
A very good article by Malcolm Gladwell, who wrote The Tipping Point, a great book. This article discusses airline safety and why increased security will only lead to more severe acts of terrorism. Not the most comforting thought, but he does suggest some sensible measures which the FAA should consider. Read it quickly, while it's still posted for free by The New Yorker. I look forward to Gladwell's articles in the New Yorker. I'm not sure how to describe his work. It's a statistically informed analysis of social phenomena. If you have thoughts on how to make flights safer, and most people seem to, you should really read this article.
The airport was much more empty than usual. No cars out front. Just lots of empty police cars. I didn't find the security measures to be much more stringent than normal. Just slower. I got to the airport 2 hours early, got to the gate with over an hour to spare, and sat around for a long time. It felt more lonely at the airport. Yes you will likely have more room on the flight. Lots of empty seats to be had. Still, you can't help feeling like one of the condemned, or the foolish, sitting alone with your airline meal and your in-flight magazine.
Maybe this will be the impetus for the U.S. to build a light rail system, like the ones in Europe. Why would you even take a flight between cities like Portland and Seattle, or Los Angeles in San Francisco, if you had to get to the airport two hours ahead of your flight? The consequences of hijacking a train, confined as it is to its rails, are much less frightening than those resulting from a hijacked airplane. Airlines could cut down on the short commuter type flights and focus on filling long distance flights, narrowing their business model complexity and perhaps increasing their profits as a results. Flying is just such a hassle now, and it's only getting worse.
I wrote a bit on the flight over to Chicago. It's been a while, but it felt good to feel the words flowing a bit. In uncomfortable times, the ability to create feels like a gesture of hope.

Chi-town

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Last stop on the wedding circuit. Joannie's birthday. A trip backhome to Chicago for the weekend. I haven't been back in ages. Tickets to some Cubs games, but they're pretty much out of it. Is anything in the world more hopeless and ridiculous than being a Cubs fan? The Cubs compete with women as the primary source of heartbreak in my life. Someday I'll have to buy them and turn them into a winner.
Interesting article about power laws and how decentralized, distributed systems will always lead to very uneven distributions. Thus, we will always have some big cities, a few big websites, hit songs, etc. The idea that the Internet would destroy the idea of a bestseller, or that digital distribution will destroy the concept of a blockbuster movie? Just myths.
On a separate note, the weather in Seattle is truly depressing me, and I feel this sudden draw to New York. After all, if it really sucked there, it wouldn't be the most populous city in the world, would it? More people moved there than moved out over the years, so something must be keeping them there. Still, why is everyone there so rude?
Michael Jordan is coming back. A lot of folks have asked me what I think, since I'm from Chicago and I'm a big Jordan fan. I would love to see him succeed. I wouldn't say that of too many sports stars that have left Chicago. We all want heroes to believe in, and for many years he was the closest thing to it. He just never really failed. When he came back the first time and the Bulls lost to Orlando in the playoffs, it felt like that scene in Superman II when Clark Kent confronts a bully in a diner and gets beat up because he has given up his powers to be human (to be with Lois; this brings up an interesting discussion of how movies always portray women as emasculating influences, but it's one for another day). Happily, as in Superman II, Jordan worked out like a fiend and came back to win the next 3 NBA Championships and scoring titles.
I just watched 3 Days of the Condor last night, and there they were, the World Trade Center towers, in a closeup shot. A strange coincidence. Good movie by the way. All this work to go back and edit movies to remove World Trade Center shots strikes me as a bit odd. Supposedly it's to avoid the subject, but is anyone really going to forget? Canceling movies related to terrorism makes more sense to me. I can't imagine many terroristmovies being more unbelievable than what just happened.
In times of crisis, we revert to our laziest judgments. Thus we distrust anyone who looks like an Arab American, or we cry out for greater government surveillance. The sign of a lousy security system is having to watch over everyone in it. Perhaps it will make us all feel better. Sure, we may not see another plane hijacked by box cutters. That's the least of my concern now. Sure, we can plug the holes that have been gushing water. Where's the next hole? The hijackings in the old days were, it is strange to say it, much more palatable than those after we established x-ray machines and their like. It is a sad truth, that over time, as security and countermeasures rise, so does the severity of the violence it counters. War in the old days was men fighting with swords, and today it is nuclear weapons. Terrorism is following the same path. The 21st century may be a dark one. What can we do to head off biological warfare, or something even more horrendous? The world is not as happy a place as it used to be.
Strange how the presence of commercials on TV reassures me that things are okay.
I'm tired. I'm speaking and thinking at a very shallow level right now.

Pace I am the slowest

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Pace


I am the slowest runner I know. I went for a run today, for about 6
miles, keeping with Dave's marathon training calendar. I realized
that what slows me down is the various sharp pains in my knees
and ankles when I run quickly on hard pavement. My lungs are fine,
but my joints and feet fail me. The only way I can cover long
distances is slowly, and even now, the bottoms of my feet ache.
I am no gazelle.
Today I will finally finish The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and
Clay.

Secondhand bliss

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Drunk on the happiness of others. Basking in the glow, they call it. Got back from Todd and Juli's wedding this afternoon. Had a great time. Having been to so many weddings this month, I've realized that when two people get married, they pull this cone of happiness behind them as they burrow into the future with hands clasped. And all of us, family and friends, are sucked into this whirling pool of joy and memory and good wishes. It was the perfect way to pull me out of post Sept 11 depression.
Among other things, the whole weekend allowed me to get to know some folks I'd either met only a few times or not at all. Aaron, Mark, Eric. Jen, Sidney (Sydney--spelling, Juli?), Tina, Denise, the other Mark, Doug and Isil, Joel and Barbara, and lots of others. Good people. I got to know Bellingham, a charming town up north in Washington. We stayed at the Chrysalis Inn, a very plush hotel along the water.
One moment in particular will stay with me. The day of the wedding, in the early afternoon, I found the two of them huddled together in the hallway outside our room, the day of the wedding, making last minute plans. Answering questions like "How should we be introduced?" I realized then, they're probably two of the only folks I know who could pull off a wedding in such a short time and be completely comfortable with all their arrangements. Juli has an impulsive streak, and Todd is a fast mover, especially armed with the Internet. We might bounce around the idea of entering a race, and 5 minutes later Todd will send e-mail saying he has registered. A few hours before we were due at the manor, they were nailing down last minute issues like a team. I thought to myself that this was how the whole event happened, just the two of them talking, figuring it all out, making decisions. I imagine they will work together in the same way as husband and wife.
From time to time, I'd look over at Todd, and I could see that he was ready.
Both brides I've witnessed this month are awesome camera subjects. Very expressive and photogenic. Many people are not physically emotive. Not that you have to be good looking, but at least interesting and physically honest, open. It's one reason celebrities make good subjects for photographers. They're accustomed to being scrutinized by the camera's eye, and they either remain natural in its gaze or play to it. Actually, both Todd and Juli were great camera subjects. I can't wait to get my few rolls of film back. Both are very comfortable with cameras on them. No poses, no cringing. I love people like that. Juli is the type of girl that even other girls describe as "gorgeous," which is like winning an award from your peers as opposed to some third party.
As a groomsmen, I actually didn't have too much to do. Todd was all over the details. I really felt like a bodyguard for Todd and Juli.
Juli, someday many years from now, I imagine I'll be sitting in a cafe (let's say Paris) with you and Todd, having a drink, sharing some laughs, and reminiscing about old times. And I'll tell you the story of the time a long time ago when Todd and I were driving somewhere, and I asked him if he found any girls at work interesting (because it was a long drive, and this is one of those subjects that comes up from time to time in the company of single men) and he said, I met this girl in orientation, and she just has the greatest smile.
Congratulations.

On a happier note

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The photo lab finally found my negatives. Phew. Posted a few early shots from Kristin's wedding.
Ran after work today, and my left shin was throbbing. I realized that I hate running. It's painful, unpleasant work. I like the idea of running, the fitness it provides, the physical effort it requires--but running itself gives me little pleasure. I am a lousy runner, to boot. The good thing is it helps me to sleep better. Yesterday I was out cold.
Watched Keeping the Faith on cable. I've got to admit, I'm a sucker for romance films set in New York. It's why I will definitely go see Serendipity. I must try it someday, the whole falling in love in New York City thing. Anyway, Keeping the Faith did not offer any insights into religion, but it handled the two guys in love with the same girl love triangle very well. Me? Yes, I'm the Ed Norton character. Sucker.

Grounded

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Despite lots of flight schedule manipulation and waiting, I never made it out Friday to Rob's wedding. I kept swinging emotionally, from wanting to go no matter what just to prove a point, I'm not sure what, to wanting to stay home and seeth. I feel for Rob, who planned the wedding so far in advance and now won't be able to share it with so many of his friends and family.
I feel quite helpless. I want to be on the front lines, chasing down these killers. Bill and I were out at sushi tonight, and we both decided to check out the CIA to see if we could secure employment as top analysts. Wouldn't be much fun to be some entry-level grunt, but would be great to recruit some top-notch programmers and engineers and develop ways to infiltrate these terrorist organizations and expose their plans.
Religious fanaticism scares me.
Being stuck here in Seattle was not ideal, as the events of this week have left me with a craving for the company of friends, lots of them. Thankfully a few people were available for my last-minute plans. Went running with Dave, Jeff, Anthony, and new Seattle-ites Mandy and Clay this morning. It made me realize how much I dislike running, how painful it is, and how out of shape I am. Then Le Bean and I checked out a photography exhibit at the Frye Art Museum.

Grey

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A profile of Osama bin Laden from the Jan 24, 2000 issue of The New Yorker.
I wanted to post some happy pictures for a change, from Greg and Kristin's wedding. Unfortunately, I realized the photo studio gave me the right contact sheet but the wrong negatives. Sigh. I had some good shots, too.
Supposed to hop a flight to Atlanta tomorrow. It's looking doubtful. Poor Rob. Supposed to be the happiest weekend of his life, and now so many won't make it out to his wedding.