Archive for the ‘waksman’ Category

Dignity is for those that do not travel

Thursday, September 2nd, 2010

Sitting, wait­ing to board my flight from San Francisco to Seattle for PAX Prime, I have already, once for­feited my dig­nity to my over­lord, Police State USA. Standing up to the man as much as might still allow me to fly, I opted-out of soak­ing up the X-rays that aren’t backscat­tered and hav­ing my naked body put on dis­play for the highly trained elite that is the TSA. Opting-out, of course, sub­jects me to a manda­tory pat-down. During the pat-down, I am granted the dig­ni­fied cour­tesy of hav­ing my spe­cial places be pat­ted down by the back of the agents hands; lucky me. Dignity sac­ri­ficed at the alter of home­land secu­rity, I am now able to wait until it’s time to leave.

At least I sprung for the slightly more expen­sive, exit row and free booze seats: now I can drink until my dig­nity doesn’t matter.

Mosquitoes are Maddening

Wednesday, July 14th, 2010

Being in San Francisco for so long, I have become accus­tomed, men­tally and phys­i­cally, to a sub­stan­tially less aggra­vat­ing envi­ron­ment than I had pre­vi­ously known. Being in Massachusetts–hot, muggy Massachusetts–again, I am recall­ing some of the things that I had left behind–some bad, some good. One thing that I had all but for­got­ten was mos­qui­toes; we don’t really get notice­able num­bers of mos­qui­toes in South of Market, San Francisco. Being here, and it hav­ing been rain­ing recently, the mos­qui­toes were out in full force, while I was work­ing on my boat’s trailer. As such, my sweet, deli­cious, George-blood has been con­sumed by a great many foul lit­tle beasts that have left behind their hor­ren­dous, anti-coagulating, inflammation-inducing, anti­gens of pain.

I’m not sure if my mem­ory is soft and mos­qui­toes have always been this unpleas­ant, if I used to be more adept at avoid­ing their painful bites, or if I had once devel­oped a tol­er­ance to their venom that has since sub­sided. However it may be, I hate mos­qui­toes far more now than I recall hat­ing them in the past.

I’m pretty sure that mos­qui­toes, like sand fleas, are some­thing that I wouldn’t mind sac­ri­fic­ing entire food chains to see go extinct.

A hole in the water into which you pour time and money

Tuesday, July 13th, 2010

One of the things that I’m look­ing to do as a part of this trip east is bring Synchronicity, my Hobie 16, out to California. Given that I haven’t sailed Synchronicity since 2007, the first orders of busi­ness were to free her and fix her up.

It took me about a week of on-and-off yard-work to exca­vate Synchronicity from the weeds that had over­grown her in my absence. Having exca­vated Synchronicity, it was dam­age assess­ment time.

Synchronicity’s trailer was struc­turally alto­gether but one of the tires was flat and both of the wheels were pretty thor­oughly rusted; addi­tion­ally, all of the lights and wiring were shot. So I bought new wheels and a whole new set of lights and wires. I’ve got the wheels swapped out and I’ll redo the wiring tomor­row, if it doesn’t rain. All told, not a lot of effort in repair­ing the trailer but a decent bit of expense, espe­cially when com­bined with the cost of buy­ing a trailer hitch and get­ting it installed on my car.

Thankfully, Synchronicity, her­self, seems to be hold­ing up pretty well. I had to replace all of the ropes and one of the shrouds that I dam­aged while clear­ing away the weeds, which is some expense and lit­tle effort. The main hal­yard also needs replac­ing and, on a Hobie Cat, it’s not just a sim­ple rope, so that’s another lit­tle expense. The mast, sails, tram­po­line, and hull struc­ture are all in good shape but the gel­coat on the bot­tom of the hulls is pretty sad. I might fix the gel­coat now but odds are pretty good that I’ll wait until I get back to San Francisco, as it may be a bit too time/effort inten­sive for my remain­ing week and a half

Between all of the repair costs and the expected decreases in fuel effi­ciency for the drive west, I expect that it’ll prob­a­bly cost me a good $500-$800 to get Synchronicity out on the waters of San Francisco Bay. Take that plus an esti­mated 30–50 hours of my time and ask me if it’s worth it.

Heck yes it’s worth it! There are few things in the world like sail­ing a catamaran.

Blessed be thee Saint Leibowitz

Monday, July 12th, 2010

I have, just now, fin­ished read­ing A Canticle For Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr. and, I must say, it is a fan­tas­tic read. The occa­sional use of Latin and Hebrew caused the book, at times, to fly over my head but I believe that may well have been the point.

The book is a story in three parts of a Catholic abbey estab­lished in the wake of a nuclear holo­caust. This par­tic­u­lar abbey has been charged by its founder, one Brother I. E. Leibowitz, with accu­mu­lat­ing and pre­serv­ing human knowl­edge. Much as the Irish monks dur­ing our last dark ages, these monks are the shep­herds of knowl­edge in the next dark age.

In spite of being in the future, the book con­stantly feels as though it is in the past, and it pro­vides me with a sym­pa­thy and fond­ness for Catholicism that I have not felt before. While I still can­not abide the dogma of the great Catholic empire, I must admit that they do serve us all by pre­serv­ing knowl­edge, at times.

One quote, from the lat­ter por­tion of the novel, tick­led my fancy a great deal:

They man­aged only to demon­strate that the math­e­mat­i­cal limit of an infi­nite sequence of “doubt­ing the cer­tainty with which some­thing doubted is known to be unknow­able when the ‘some­thing doubted’ is still a pre­ced­ing state­ment of ‘unknowa­bil­ity’ of some­thing doubted,” that the limit of this process at infin­ity can only be equiv­a­lent to a state­ment of absolute cer­tainty, even though phrased as an infi­nite series of nega­tions of certainty

– A Canticle For Leibowitz (pp. 301–302)

The quote is not par­tic­u­larly rep­re­sen­ta­tive but, to be hon­est, I feel that it would be hard to find any quote that would be prop­erly rep­re­sen­ta­tive of this book.

A Canticle For Leibowitz is a won­der­ful read; one of few, recently, that has suc­ceeded in keep­ing my atten­tion from start to fin­ish, and I highly rec­om­mend it.

Is it wrong to make the same wish on two shooting stars?

Friday, July 9th, 2010

One of the nice things about Woods Hole is that there are few enough lights that you can see the stars in the sky. It’s really quite pleas­ant to be out on a moon­less night and see so very many stars scat­tered across the skies.

Sometimes, being in San Francisco, I for­get how nice it is to go for an evening walk through empty, dark streets, with trees to the sides and stars above.

To get back to the tit­u­lar ques­tion, I’ve been see­ing quite a few shoot­ing stars–I think that I’m up to five since get­ting here–and I’ve always liked the tra­di­tion of wish­ing on shoot­ing stars. Being as I am, I don’t really put much merit in wish­ing, except inso­far as plant­ing things in one’s own sub­con­scious can be ben­e­fi­cial, but I also rather enjoy harm­less, mean­ing­less super­sti­tion from time to time. Of course, when things come down to super­sti­tion, eti­quette really takes on a strong role but eti­quettes of super­sti­tion tend to vary greatly. I find, that there are rel­a­tively few things that I would actu­ally want to wish for and that num­ber has already been over­come by the num­ber of shoot­ing stars that I have seen.

Is it poor form to reuse a wish on a new shoot­ing star?

2010 Journey East: Some numbers

Monday, July 5th, 2010

I’m rather fond of keep­ing metic­u­lous data about var­i­ous things and the list of such things cer­tainly con­tains sta­tis­tics about my car. Having fin­ished the trip east, here are some num­bers from the trip:

Odometer leav­ing San Francisco, CA: 1715
Odometer arriv­ing Austin, TX: 3532
Odometer leav­ing Austin, TX: 3540
Odometer arriv­ing Atlanta, GA: 4730
Odometer leav­ing Atlanta, GA: 4730
Odometer arriv­ing Concord, MA: 5837
Odometer leav­ing Concord, MA: 5850
Odometer arriv­ing Woods Hole, MA: 5947

The fol­low­ing num­bers are a lit­tle off because I started and fin­ished with par­tially full tanks of fuel:

Total diesel con­sumed: ~115 gal­lons
Total cost of fuel: ~$340

The astute reader will notice that I have been get­ting fuel econ­omy in the upper thir­ties of miles per gal­lon. This is cor­rect and, when observed on a more gran­u­lar level it does seem to be show­ing a trend upwards, though that trend is likely not sta­tis­ti­cally sig­nif­i­cant. As I intend to con­tinue mea­sur­ing my fuel con­sump­tion for the life of my car, I will be able to give bet­ter data later, when I am more than 6000 miles and 15 tanks of fuel in.

2010 Journey East: Here I am, I guess

Monday, July 5th, 2010

Well, I’m sit­ting here in our house in Woods Hole, sip­ping a beer, read­ing an inter­est­ing physics paper about the holo­graphic prin­ci­ple, and I thought that it might be good to take a few moments to update you all on the past few days.

Having left Matt’s place in Atlanta on Friday morn­ing, I jour­neyed up through the Carolinas, Virginia, Maryland, New Jersey, New York and into Connecticut on Friday. Baldr and I slept at a rest area in the back of my car in Connecticut and then went on to my par­ents’ place in Concord, MA on Saturday. Saturday evening, after din­ner, I fin­ished the jour­ney down to Woods Hole, MA so as to avoid any morn­ing traf­fic on Sunday (the 4th).

In the process, I man­aged to fin­ish Cloud Atlas and I am pleased to report that it was, in fact, quite good.

Anyway, leav­ing Atlanta, and dri­ving through Georgia for a while, I ended up in South Carolina. Driving through South Carolina on an inter­state, one sees quite a few signs adver­tis­ing the sale of fire­works. Initially, my reac­tion was mostly a ho-hum, fire­works are kind of fun but do I really care enough to stop and buy some. Thankfully, after pass­ing a dozen or so adver­tise­ments on the road, I came to my senses and real­ized that, of course, I want fire­works, big awe­some fire­works. Coming to my senses, and stop­ping at the next place I could find, I pro­ceeded to buy a bit over a hun­dred dol­lars worth of fireworks–primarily mor­tars and bot­tle rock­ets as those are my pref­er­ence. We went through about half of the fire­works yes­ter­day while we watched the Falmouth fire­works from Fay Beach. A num­ber of youths (young­sters, teenagers, hooli­gans, what­ever you want to call them) clus­tered around us and we were nice enough to share my fire­works with them. It was rather pleas­ant to share fire­works with a younger gen­er­a­tion and I cer­tainly know that I would have appre­ci­ated it had some­one done so with my when I was that age; I couldn’t help but also feel good about pos­si­bly instill­ing some tiny amount of respect for the proper oper­a­tion of things that have labels like, “Warning: Shoots Flaming Balls”. Subsequently, Dave, Paul, and I played a rous­ing game of Power Grid, which is an excel­lent board game.

That’s most of what I have to report of the past few days; it’s nice to be here after so long away. I should be here for about the next three weeks so it’ll be inter­est­ing to see how things play out.

2010 Journey East: Days 4&5: Atlanta via Louisiana

Thursday, July 1st, 2010

It’s Thursday night–technically Friday–and I’m sit­ting in JamesMatt’s liv­ing room, chat­ting with his room­mate. It’s pleas­ant here but per­haps I should back up.

Wednesday (Day 4), around noon, I packed up and left Austin. It was a lit­tle later than I had intended but being well rested was a pleas­ant out­come to achieve. Anyway, set­ting off from Austin, I set my GPS for Venice, LA and set out. To be wholly hon­est, dri­ving through Texas really isn’t all that inter­est­ing, espe­cially east­ern Texas. I don’t really have any com­plaints though; I’m really enjoy­ing the road, espe­cially the decent speed lim­its down here in the South (usu­ally 70mph, some­times 80mph). I’ve started lis­ten­ing, at Grace’s sug­ges­tion, to an audio­book ver­sion of the novel Cloud Atlas. Cloud Atlas is incred­i­bly engross­ing and, because of the nar­ra­tive struc­ture, at times rather infu­ri­at­ing; this infu­ri­a­tion later enhanc­ing the sat­is­fac­tion it pro­vides but I am not yet done so it is per­haps best to wait a bit before fur­ther reviewing.

After even­tu­ally leav­ing Texas, I entered Louisiana, which is so very full of swamp­land as to be quite impres­sive. I first drove across prop­erly immense swamp­lands dur­ing my 2005 trip to Florida and those swamps had noth­ing on Louisiana. The amount of water is both beau­ti­ful and stag­ger­ing. Anyway, work­ing my way across Louisiana, I even­tu­ally hit New Orleans. I drove through New Orleans and made my way for the tip of the Mississippi delta, the afore-programmed Venice, LA. I made it pretty far out that lit­tle strip of land before flood­ing halted my progress; so it goes.

It’s worth men­tion­ing that I’m not really so much mak­ing a slow trip across the coun­try to see the sights; that is a thing to do and it might be fun but it is not what I am doing; I am dri­ving from San Francisco to Woods Hole and dilly-dallying just a lit­tle bit along the way. As such, I didn’t spend much time in New Orleans as Atlanta was my next destination.

Proceeding through Mississippi, get­ting a bit tired, I started con­tem­plat­ing sleep. Eventually, I attempted to set­tle down at a rest area in the back of my car, with Baldr, for some sleep. Unfortunately, the rest area’s light and Baldr’s heat-induced heavy breath­ing made that a non-viable plan.

Slamming a 5 Hour Power and get­ting back on the road, I forged on. Finishing off Mississippi and push­ing through Alabama, I made it to Georgia in the wee hours of last night–Thursday (Day 5) morn­ing. Pushing on, con­tin­u­ing to lis­ten to Cloud Atlas, I hit Atlanta at about 7am; find­ing JamesMatt awake, we got some break­fast, chat­ted a bit, and then he went to work. Not hav­ing slept, I of course slept dur­ing the day. Matt returned in the early evening; we and his room­mates spent a while hanging-out; and now, every­one else hav­ing gone to bed, I write this before following.

Tomorrow, we make for Massachusetts, likely puas­ing (very briefly) in New York along the way.

2010 Journey East: Day 3: Austin

Wednesday, June 30th, 2010

Although exceed­ingly warm by my stan­dards, Austin is not an unpleas­ant place. The pri­mary events of the 3rd day of my jour­ney were lunch with Gautham and Ariel; the acqui­si­tion of nearly suf­fi­cient wardrobe items as will serve most of my needs for the sum­mer; a rather sub­stan­tial nap; and din­ner with Riad, Gautham, Cyrus, and Riad’s lady-friend.

Baldr has been hav­ing a good time hang­ing out with Nico and Shockley, as well as, gen­er­ally, not being in the car. Baldr mostly sits, stands, lies down, or naps in the car, which, prac­ti­cally speak­ing, is not alto­gether dis­sim­i­lar from what he does dur­ing the vast major­ity of other times.

Also, I fin­ished Moby Dick and it was awe­some. Moby Dick is, truly, a leviathan of lit­er­a­ture in every pos­si­ble sense.

Austin is serv­ing as a nice part-way spot to rest and, if it were the week­end, it might be pleas­ant to stay a lit­tle longer. In order to cover dis­tance, rather than wait while peo­ple work, Day 4 will, hope­fully, see the Louisiana shore and the city of New Orleans.

2010 Journey East: Day 2: In brief summary

Tuesday, June 29th, 2010

It’s 3AM Central Time and I arrived at Riad’s place in Austin, TX some­where between 30 and 60 min­utes ago.

It being 3AM, I shall keep this brief and, per­haps, go into greater detail tomorrow.

There were a few notable things that occurred dur­ing the day:

There was a US Border Patrol inspec­tion point on I-10E an hour or so East of El Paso, TX whereat I was first asked if I was a US cit­i­zen, then asked where I was from, where I was going, and what the pur­pose of my trip was. My car was visu­ally inspected from the out­side and sniffed by a dog. I was asked Baldr’s age and I was sent on my way. The line of cars wait­ing to be inspected, the time spent per car, and the inter­rup­tion to my cruis­ing speed prob­a­bly cost me a half hour or so. I’m not sure whether this is an indi­ca­tion that the ter­ror­ists or the anti-immigration crack-pots have won.

Somewhere in the midst of Texas, among the scrub­land and the mesas, in the mid-afternoon, I hit bore­dom for the first time; it was an odd, unpleas­ant feel­ing that I haven’t felt in a very long time but its explo­ration and com­ing through the other side are chief ele­ments of this vaca­tion. After hit­ting that point, I drove in my bore­dom with the music and audio­books off for a time before the bore­dom passed and Moby Dick resumed. Speaking of Moby Dick; I am on the 18th or 18 discs, near­ing the final chap­ters and absolutely riveted.

Sometime shortly after my bore­dom passed I encoun­tered a rain of insects. Droplets, or what seemed to be droplets, began hit­ting my wind­shield at the rate of a mild shower but, some moments later, when I decided to use my wipers to remove the droplets, they merely smeared across the wind­shield. This hor­rid rain per­sisted for a good fif­teen to thirty min­utes, even­tu­ally leav­ing my wind­shield with sub­stan­tially dimin­ished clar­ity, in spite of many appli­ca­tions of wind­shield wipers with fluid.

Due to my own lazi­ness and my cars extreme econ­omy, those insects remained on my wind­shield through night­fall, on into the night, and only finally were extri­cated by an actual rain­fall about a hun­dred miles out from Austin. I say a hun­dred miles out because that is where the rain began; it was not, how­ever, very local­ized. For the last hun­dred miles of the drive, the weather vac­il­lated wildly between mild mist and rains so tor­ren­tial that I haven’t seen their likes since last I saw the outer fringes of hur­ri­canes in New England. I have heard that there is a trop­i­cal storm off the coast now and this truly felt like its outer edges.

There were plenty of other sights and events dur­ing the day but, as I said before, the time is late and I must sleep.

2010 Journey East: Day 1 addendum: Nope

Monday, June 28th, 2010

That I am in the Buckeye Motor Hotel in Buckeye, AZ should answer the ques­tion of whether or not I suc­ceeded in sleep­ing in the 90°F weather present at that rest area.

Overall, $55 ($45+$10/pet) isn’t a bad price to pay for a room with air con­di­tion­ing. Given my cur­rent needs, I prob­a­bly would have paid $55 for a 6.5’x6.5′ closet with air con­di­tion­ing; I’d be grip­ing about it in this post but I prob­a­bly would have done it. I guess, alter­na­tively, I could have left the engine idling and the air con­di­tion­ing on in my car; the fuel prob­a­bly would have lasted the night and on to the near­est gas sta­tion but the main­te­nance costs down the line would not have been worth it.

I’ve been tak­ing I-10E since LA, which passes straight through Phoenix. Since I’ll be dri­ving in the morn­ing, I have no desire to hit traf­fic, and Buckeye’s half-way between I-10 and I-8, I think that I’ll divert myself around Phoenix on I-8E so as to meet back up with I-10 south of Phoenix.

Ok, the air con­di­tion­ing seems to have cooled the room suf­fi­ciently that I can get some sleep.

With luck, my next post will be from Riad’s place in Austin.

2010 Journey East: Day 1: I suck at remembering stuff

Monday, June 28th, 2010

Right now, I sit in my car, typ­ing to you on my work lap­top over my phone’s Internet, in a rest area where I plan to sleep, approx­i­mately 50 miles easy of Phoenix, AZ, hav­ing dri­ven 703 miles in just shy of 10.5 hours, hav­ing used less than two tanks of fuel.

So far, bar­ring two issues, it’s been an alto­gether pleas­ant trip. Due to tar­di­ness in pack­ing and clean­ing, I set out around noon-thirty, which was about three hours later than I had intended but there isn’t really any time crit­i­cal­ity to my jour­ney, so it’s not a big deal. A cou­ple hours into the jour­ney, when I set about get­ting break­fast, lunch, my first meal of the day, or what­ever you want to call it, that I had for­got­ten to bring Baldr’s leash and pinch col­lar; as a result, Baldr’s short walks dur­ing the trip have been either off-leash or using a bungee-cord as an impro­vised leash; I will have to buy a new leash and pinch col­lar some­time tomor­row; so it goes. We encoun­tered hints of traf­fic near LA but noth­ing too both­er­some and, oth­er­wise, have had smooth and fast paced travel.

I have been lis­ten­ing to Moby Dick on audio­book and am cur­rently on disc 8 of 18. I must, truly and hon­estly, say that this work of prose is truly an amaz­ing thing. Moby Dick is, at times, for that mat­ter, most times, rather slow paced, such that I expect I wouldn’t be able to man­age this degree of devo­tion were I not a cap­tive audi­ence with a great deal of monot­ony on my side. However, see­ing as I am a cap­tive audi­ence, I have been greatly enjoy­ing the work for its vari­ety, depth, descrip­tive­ness, phi­los­o­phy, and sheer grav­i­tas. At this rate, I should have fin­ished this mon­strous epic well before I make Austin.

Sometime, approx­i­mately two hours ago, I was think­ing about whether or not I would change my clothes while on the road when it occurred to me that I had no rec­ol­lec­tion of load­ing my suit­case into my car. On fur­ther inspec­tion, I can, in fact, con­firm that I also for­got to put my suit­case in my car. Man, do I feel like an idiot. Thankfully, my suit­case con­tains only clothes and toi­letries, which are rel­a­tively eas­ily replace­able for the pur­poses of such a jour­ney; though it is supremely both­er­some to have to do so unin­ten­tion­ally. My lap­top, charg­ers, and every­thing else are thank­fully in my mes­sen­ger bag, which leaves me still able to per­form the var­i­ous tasks that I intend to per­form and, to be entirely hon­est, I was think­ing, just yes­ter­day, that it was about time for me to buy some new clothes; call it unfor­tu­nate prov­i­dence, I guess.

I won­der what else I will come to dis­cover that I have forgotten.

Anyway, now it’s time to see if I can get any sleep in this abom­inable 90°F Arizona night; hope­fully it won’t dis­tress Baldr too much either.

Wow, I’ve been at this for quite a while

Tuesday, June 8th, 2010

I just hap­pened to notice that this blog has been around for over six years and this will mark my 641st post. I’m cer­tainly not post­ing as fre­quently as I used to, for which I am some­what dis­ap­pointed in myself, but I’m pretty pleased to have been keep­ing this thing going as long as I have.

Asceticism post-mortem

Tuesday, June 8th, 2010

My month of asceti­cism hav­ing passed, and hav­ing had some time to relapse as the mood strikes me, I am able to draw some con­clu­sions from the experience.

Caffeine — My rela­tion­ship with caf­feine has changed quite sub­stan­tially as a result of my ascetic endeavor. I suf­fered pretty bad migraines for a day or so within a few days of giv­ing up caf­feine. The migraines sub­sided a cou­ple days later and I was left heav­ily crav­ing caf­feine for about two weeks. By this point, more than a month after giv­ing up caf­feine, I still have some desire for caf­feine but I feel as though I wouldn’t have any trou­ble con­tin­u­ing indef­i­nitely with­out caffeine.

That I could con­tinue indef­i­nitely with­out caf­feine doesn’t mean I plan to. I have no plans to relapse to my prior lev­els (2–5 units per day) of caf­feine usage but caf­feine can be quite use­ful so nei­ther do I intend to swear off caf­feine. My plan is to go with­out caf­feine in gen­eral but turn to it at times when I find myself desir­ing of more wake­ful­ness or other stimulants.

Caffeine only for a pur­pose, not out of habit.

High fruc­tose corn-syrup — Adding high fruc­tose corn-syrup to my ascetic month was a very good choice on my part. I have decided to entirely give up high fruc­tose corn-syrup and I’m not look­ing back. Mostly, all of the things that I have to give up to avoid high fruc­tose corn-syrup are not things that I mind giv­ing up. I kind of miss soda a lit­tle bit but only just barely.

It takes a lit­tle bit of aware­ness and vig­i­lance but I feel that it’s worth the effort to go with­out high fruc­tose corn-syrup.

Alcohol — Nothing much learned here. I still enjoy the fla­vor and side-effects of alco­holic bev­er­ages. Having had a month with­out alco­hol has left me with a some­what decreased tol­er­ance, which has its pluses and minuses but that’s about all that I’ve got­ten from this month as regards alcohol.

I guess the fact that I drink alco­hol because I enjoy it and not out of habit might be a valu­able thing to have learned.

Drugs — Giving some­thing up that you weren’t going to have been doing isn’t really giv­ing some­thing up.

Conclusion: Giving stuff up for a while can give you a new per­spec­tive or appre­ci­a­tion for the things that you give up. Sometimes that new per­spec­tive is that old habits aren’t worth keeping.

Monkey Bread: Verdict

Saturday, May 29th, 2010

Awesome.

It’s 5:30 and there’s monkey bread in the oven

Saturday, May 29th, 2010

Sometime round abouts 3, I found myself in the liv­ing room, bored, and with my lap­top. One thing led to another, and there was Google, font of ran­dom knowl­edge. Typing ran­dom word com­bi­na­tions into Google, I dis­cov­ered (much as ol’ Christopher Columbus did the new world) that there is a food­stuff by the name of mon­key bread.

Being the me that I hap­pen to be, specif­i­cally, the me that you likely know to be me, I could not help but attempt to con­struct this amaz­ingly named baked good. Googling about the Internets, I decided upon a recipe from The Pioneer Woman Cooks due to a com­bi­na­tion of gen­eral recipe con­sen­sus and a fond­ness for the tone of the author’s writing.

Having cho­sen a recipe and (mostly) fol­lowed it, here I sit, typ­ing while I wait on the oven. The mon­key bread, which I can­not imag­ine being any­thing less than 4 Billion % awe­some, will be done cook­ing around 6. I’ll prob­a­bly wait around until the mon­key bread is ready to remove from its cake mold womb, pop it out, and leave it for my var­i­ous room­mates to dis­cover come tomorrow.

Tasting reports may, per­haps, fol­low, though given my post­ing track record, I would not hold out high hopes.

Secular Asceticism

Thursday, May 6th, 2010

I am not a reli­gious man but I have found, at times, that peri­ods of abstinence/asceticism can be good for one’s body and spirit. Of course, as with any absti­nence reg­i­men, what one is abstain­ing from and the rea­sons for the under­tak­ing play a very large part in what one can get out of it.

This month marks the sec­ond time that I have under­taken a month of asceti­cism; the first hav­ing been March of 2009. Last time, I took a straight edge approach, abstain­ing from caf­feine, alco­hol, and all other psy­choac­tive sub­stances. This year, I am repeat­ing the same absten­tion of caf­feine, alco­hol, and drugs but adding high-fructose corn syrup.

As I men­tioned, I feel that the what and why or any ascetic reg­i­men plays a large part in what one gets from the expe­ri­ence. My first bout of asceti­cism, last year, was prompted by the feel­ing that my caf­feine con­sump­tion had reached unrea­son­able lev­els and, if the degree of caf­feine with­drawal that I went through at that time was any indi­ca­tion, I was cor­rect in my feel­ing. At the time, I decided that if I was going to go off caf­feine for a month, cold-turkey, I might as well do the same with any other mind-altering sub­stance. This time, my rea­son­ing is largely derived from the feel­ing of home­osta­sis obtained dur­ing my last run of asceti­cism. I am adding high-fructose corn syrup this time around because I am under the (mar­gin­ally sci­en­tific) impres­sion that high-fructose corn syrup is unhealthy to con­sume and do not nor­mally main­tain any level of aware­ness over its consumption.

As we’re near­ing the end of my first week of absten­tion, I can report on some of the specifics of the expe­ri­ence thus far:

  • Caffeine — Oh, how I miss caf­feine; I am an addict and I crave my fix. Actually, as of today, I find myself crav­ing caf­feine far less than I did even yes­ter­day. Thankfully, this year, my caf­feine con­sump­tion was far lower before the under­tak­ing than last year. Last time, I had mon­strously intense migraines for nearly a week due to caf­feine with­drawal; this time, I had mod­er­ate migraines on day two (Sunday) but the major symp­toms had cleared by day three (Monday). Cravings, as I men­tioned, are sub­sid­ing and I hope to be back to base­line some­time next week.
  • Alcohol — Abstaining from alco­hol is mostly a social nui­sance for me. I usu­ally drink socially, as is the case with a great many, if not all, of my friends. On its own giv­ing up alco­hol isn’t a huge deal but, when one’s absten­tion from caf­feine and high-fructose corn syrup means that you can’t even have “just a Coke,” things get annoy­ing. Abstaining from alco­hol also makes me aware of the fre­quency with which I will go to the fridge for some­thing to drink and grab a beer; this has largely been replaced by grab­bing a glass of milk or Ovaltine (thank­fully free of high-fructose corn syrup).
  • Drugs — Not really a sub­stan­tive change, mostly here to round out the list and allow the clas­si­fi­ca­tion to be sim­pli­fied to psy­choac­tive sub­stances and high-fructose corn syrup for dis­cus­sion purposes.
  • High fruc­tose corn-syrup — Fuck! This shit is in every­thing! High-fructose corn syrup is really hard to avoid; I’m sure that I’m miss­ing things that con­tain this stuff. I went into a gas sta­tion mart on Saturday to get a bev­er­age and the only things that I could find with­out caf­feine or high-fructose corn syrup were water, milk, and Diet Sprite. I didn’t put ketchup on my french fries at lunch today because ketchup con­tains high-fructose corn syrup. For Christ’s sake, they even put high-fructose corn syrup in Saltine’s. The addi­tion of high-fructose corn syrup to my absten­tion list is both mad­den­ing and some­what enlightening.

That’s where we’re at for now; I’ll keep you posted as the month goes on.