Called Bagles & Schmear on 28th between Park & Lex. They have honey mustard tuna salad! I always ask for honey mustard on my tuna salad sandwiches…and they use h.m. instead of mayo! Amazing. This makes me incredibly happy. And this sandwich is so so good.
NYT published an enticing write-up of Harvard biological anthropologist, Richard Wrangham’s, book Catching Fire: How Cooking Made Us Human. In it we learn how being “the cooking apes, the creatures of the flame” allowed fragile habilines to evolve and thrive.
Along the way, Wrangham dismisses raw diets as neither optimal nor natural; focuses on how moving from gathering to cooking was an unwitting coup for patriarchical cultural norms; and explains how harnessing fire was singularly important in our transition from big-stomached, small-brained apes to… the opposite:
Apes began to morph into humans, and the species Homo erectus emerged some two million years ago, Mr. Wrangham argues, for one fundamental reason: We learned to tame fire and heat our food.
…eating cooked food — whether meat or plants or both —made digestion easier, and thus our guts could grow smaller. The energy that we formerly spent on digestion (and digestion requires far more energy than you might imagine) was freed up, enabling our brains, which also consume enormous amounts of energy, to grow larger. The warmth provided by fire enabled us to shed our body hair, so we could run farther and hunt more without overheating. Because we stopped eating on the spot as we foraged and instead gathered around a fire, we had to learn to socialize, and our temperaments grew calmer.
“Relying on cooked food creates opportunities for cooperation, but just as important, it exposes cooks to being exploited,”…Women needed male protection…Marriage, or what Mr. Wrangham calls “a primitive protection racket,” was a solution… “Cooking,” he writes, “created and perpetuated a novel system of male cultural superiority.”
“Fuck the average reader. I was always told to write for the average reader in my newspaper life. The average reader, as they meant it, was some suburban white subscriber with two-point-whatever kids and three-point-whatever cars and a dog and a cat and lawn furniture. He knows nothing and he needs everything explained to him right away, so that exposition becomes this incredible, story-killing burden. Fuck him. Fuck him to hell.”—David Simon (via wireporn) (via gnomechomsky)
I’ve been waiting for these codes to hit the U.S. since I read about them being used in Japan in PopSci more than four years ago. In a nutshell, they’re 3D barcodes that your cell phone can scan, sending info and a web link right to your phone. In Japan, they have them on magazine ads, movie posters, products at the mall, and more. It creates an incredible connection between print and the web and will definitely change the ad industry.
The people I love the best jump into work head first without dallying in the shallows and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight. They seem to become natives of that element, the black sleek heads of seals bouncing like half submerged balls.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart, who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience, who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward, who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge in the task, who go into the fields to harvest and work in a row and pass the bags along, who stand in the line and haul in their places, who are not parlor generals and field deserters but move in a common rhythm when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud. Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust. But the thing worth doing well done has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident. Greek amphoras for wine or oil, Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums but you know they were made to be used. The pitcher cries for water to carry and a person for work that is real.
I really enjoy reading aloud. Its scintillating to roll each word around my mouth and so fun to light up a passage for someone with my voice alone. It is definitely a forgotten cultural gem and a practice that more people would enjoy if they thought to do it. One of the best ways to share a passion for reading, and not just for five year olds.
I’ve been tumbling for well over a year, but I’m really tempted to switch blogging platforms. I’m growing disenchanted with tumblr. I don’t feel like its system encourages the type of content I hold most highly. Plus, I’m getting really tired of seeing the same pictures posted again and again and again and then again three months later and then again and again. Stale to say the least.
I love the whole dashboard concept for its ease of use and ability to encourage community. However, my new job gives me no time to blog during the day, which is really how it should be, and I don’t want to feel punished for only blogging once in a while at night.
Maybe a switch to wordpress for more quality over quantity and then twitter for the social aspect? Can I feed wordpress posts into my tumblr, so I can keep both?
I’ve been mulling this over a lot lately, and I’ve really been trying to “tweet” more (gross). The appealing thing about Twitter is that so many professionals in my industry use it.
We’ll eventually see where all this goes. For now, good night.