Lent: Day 1

Today is my favorite day of the year, also known as Ash Wednesday. It is the day when God said unto us, “Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, motherfuckers!” Meaning, soon our time will up and we’ll be dead, and it will be as though none of this ever happened. I find this message comforting and uplifting. What does that say about me? Never mind.

But for reals, I think that considering your own mortality and therefore reevaluating what is important to you isn’t a bad thing. This Lent, even though I didn’t really like his book, I’m going to take JS Foer up on his challenge and go vegan. I don’t really have a great reason for doing this, other than it will make it extremely difficult for me to eat anything, so maybe that will make me think about or appreciate something or other. Or maybe not.

So I was going to just eat pastries for the whole time, because that’s not meat, and then my boyfriend pointed out to me that a lot of baked goods have eggs in them. Fuck. What other foods are there other than cake and meat?

Apples? Am I supposed to eat apples for forty days?

I’ll probably be dead in about two weeks. Thanks a lot, Jesus.

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German makes me sad in my heart

So the biggest problem with living in Germany is that, in order to work and talk to people and stuff, I had to learn German. I did not really consider this problem before ending up there, and then it just kind of popped out, like it had been hiding behind a bush just waiting to surprise me, and it jumped out and yelled “Hey!! Guess what?? You need to learn German, asshole.”

So I didn’t actually end up all the way learning German. I don’t know if I’m just dumb, or if German’s dumb, but it didn’t really work out between us. This makes things awkward for me sometimes, especially at work, because people there will just be saying things all the time, like bla bla bla bla, and I will not understand a word they are saying. I have to pretend that I understand though, because if I don’t pretend then I will get fired. :( Fired!!

Pretending that you understand what someone is saying, but not really understanding a goddamn word, leads to a lot of awkward situations.

Exhibit One:

Every two weeks we have a meeting where someone presents an article on a scientific topic and then we all discuss scientificky stuff. I guess. Last time, someone presented genetics. I think. The first slide had pictures of the DNA spiral (pretty!)

and animals and mushrooms and people. Mushrooms!

Then there were some other slides and people said things. During the discussion, people also said things, secret things that I could not understand.  And then it was my turn to contribute.

I don’t know anything about genetics, or DNA. I had no idea what I could say. My brain panicked. It searched my memory for anything, anything that I could say relating to the topic. It remembered the mushroom. “I didn’t know mushrooms have DNA,” I finally managed. “That really surprised me.”

Silence.

Then they moved on to the next person. Well, at least I didn’t get fired yet.

Exhibit Two:

We all go out to lunch and order our food at a long counter. Yesterday, the lunch lady asked me which side dish I wanted, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying.

Lunch Lady: Blaaaah fjlsjlis

Me: Sorry?

Lunch Lady: ljfslkdlfllsllllllllllllll

Me: I’m sorry, I still don’t know what you are saying to me.

Lunch Lady: msjlksjfljfooooo

Finally, I turned to my coworker, who was standing beside me, and asked for an explanation.

“She’s asking if you want the side of salad or potatoes.”

“Oh.” The lunch lady was just too mumbly and the German tricked me and I didn’t understand. Both Lunch Lady and Coworker look at me disapprovingly.

Then Lunch Lady asks me, very slowly and very loudly, “DOOOOOO YOUUUU WANT KETCHUUUP OR MAYYYOOOO?”

“Mayo,” I said sadly. I looked at my coworker. She shrugged and walked away.

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Book Review: PopCo by Scarlett Thomas

My review of PopCo can best be summarized with the following words: What the fuck happened to you, PopCo? You and I were getting along great, and then you had to go fuck it up. You’re like everybody’s asshole ex-boyfriend/girlfriend.

I admit it, I bought the book for the cover. My edition is a beautiful deep royal blue with silvery swirls, and the page edges have also been dyed blue. Aside from books made of solid gold or solid chocolate, this is the next best thing.

The book started off being amazing balls. About a hundred pages in, I still had no idea if it would turn out to be a murder mystery, some kind of science fiction, a coming of age/reawakening story, or what.

What it turned out to be is a big fucking disappointment, people. But I’ll get to that.

The book follows protagonist Alice, a very smart loner who you meet walking through a deserted train station in the dead of night because she prefers to travel when there are no people around. She pretty much prefers to do anything with no people around. And she won’t, yet, tell you why. Alice works for a toy company, coming up with ideas for new toy products. She invents toys that appeal to loner kids, like spy kits and survival guides. She ends up on a retreat for her company in the isolated English countryside, and during her stay there she begins to suspect that the company is more sinister than she initially thought. She also begins to receive mysterious coded messages from someone, which makes her highly anxious. She starts to reveal her past to the reader, and the fact that she grew up with her grandparents, who were famous code breakers and who taught her everything they knew. A lot of the cipher stuff is just fun facts you may have learned about on television or something, but the story is told so well that it all sounds extremely Complex and Important and Serious. There also may or may not be a treasure involved. That’s right.

The book is also full of reflections about how enormous multinational companies operate, about their lack of conscience when it comes to increasing profit margins, and about how they try to get into our brains so that they can get us to buy their shit. The book criticizes marketing research and the outsourcing of manufacturing  in particular (aka sad people in sweatshops in China), but manages to do it within the confines of the mysteries surrounding Alice, which is refreshing. In this case, Thomas weaves her agenda into the totally engrossing story very masterfully, so you should enjoy the book even if you yourself, for some reason, own a sweatshop in China.

And then, I have no idea what the fuck happened. Is it a spoiler if I tell you about stuff that happens near the end of the book? I guess. Except that the book ending sort of has nothing to do with anything. In any case, here it is. *SPOILER, STOP READING, IF YOU CARE* The last fifty pages told me explicitly to become vegan. For reals. It was fifty pages telling me that I should become vegan, and that people who aren’t vegan are just big ole dicks. Look, if I want to be beat over the head about being vegetarian or vegan, I’ll read Eating Animals, okay? Actually, Eating Animals was not nearly as heavy handed this book. The weird thing is, Thomas tries to be completely radical and to reveal how evil big companies and the meat industry are, but her suggestions for alternate lifestyles are not all that radical. She rails against consumerism, but instead of suggestion an anti-consumerist model, she just says we should buy stuff from friendlier companies.

Another thing that made my brain explode, because it makes no sense at all, is that Thomas then goes on to say that you can’t be expected to do everything right, and that if you don’t want to give up smoking, it’s okay, even though your money goes to support Big Tobacco. Why does she emphasize that one should give up animal products in order to lead a moral life, but waves aside other things like giving up cigarettes? The tobacco industry isn’t exactly super friendly, plus a while back they merged with Kraft and now own all of the processed foods in the world as well. Why wave that aside? I have no fucking idea. Thomas  probably just loves smoking. Who knows. Look, none of it makes sense. The argumentation is dumb as a bag of bricks, people. *END SPOILERS*

Nevertheless, and I can’t believe I’m saying this again, I would totally recommend this book. Alice’s story is engaging and full of suspense and a lot of fun to read. It’s probably one of the five most fun books I’ve read in the past few years. At least the first 90% of it was. The rest of it, holy guacamole.

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It looks like I won’t be killing anybody after all

It looks like these days, it’s pretty hard to commit the perfect murder. Forensic scientists have figured out a way to measure pretty much anything. Just in the last five years, their powers have increased by like a million-fold. Your best bet is to make sure that the investigators and autopsy guy are incompetent or lazy. If they are, go for it, but if they’re pretty sly or hard-working, you’re going to end up with the death penalty, people. Also, it doesn’t seem like a good idea to kill people who are high profile, like rich people. But they probably don’t put in as much manpower on cases concerning people who no one cares about.

I feel kind of skeevy watching Forensic Files, because they show real cases with real victims, and I’m all stretched out on the couch, eating my Ramen noodles and being all, “I totally knew it was that douchy husband!”

Also, the show gives me terrible nightmares because I watch like 10 episodes each night, right before I go to bed. My boyfriend gets really mad at me.

BF: Um, don’t you think you’ve seen enough? Why don’t you give it a break after episode seven?

Me: I can handle it.

BF: You’re going to have nightmares all night, again.

Me: No I won’t.

BF: Why don’t you watch something nice instead, like a family film or a rom com?

Me: A rom com? What’s wrong with you??

BF: I just think-

Me: Shhhh. They’re about to calculate the angle at the bullet’s entry point.

Then when I go to sleep my nightmares are like this: ovarian cancer dead body buried alive falling running from killer blood explosion rotting flesh

Then I wake up my boyfriend in the middle of the night and I’m like, “Oh my God, I’ve just had terrible nightmares!!!”

BF: Go away, I hate you.

Then I go back to sleep and my dream is like: sobbing corpses decapitation bleeding gums

Then I kind of understand why I shouldn’t watch quite so much Forensic Files, but how else will I learn to commit the perfect murder? Plus the episode names sound so fun, like All That Glitters is Gold and Bed of Deception.

Also, I trust no one now. People, as Forensic Files pointed out to me, it’s always your wife or husband or best friend. So watch your backs.

And I just realized, if I ever do try to commit the perfect murder, this blog will look pretty suspicious. Shit.

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Book Review: Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver

First of all, I’m not the type of person who buys and reads books about eating ethically. I’m the type of person who would mow down a chicken with a machine gun and then laugh loudly. So now that we have that out of the way, why did I buy these two books? Well, Kingsolver seems like a nice lady, so I wanted her to make money off of me, and Foer’s book was all green with squiggly letters on the cover, which I liked.

I chose to read and  review their books at the same time since both texts have to do with eating ethically and because they partially disagree with one another. To the death. Seriously, Barbara Kingsolver ended up killing Foer over the dispute a few months ago. (Disclaimer: I’m just fucking with you. She totally didn’t. Like I said, she seems like a really nice lady.)

In her book, Kingsolver makes the case for eating foods grown locally (and yet her initials are BK. Like Burger King. Hmmm. This aside makes no sense. I don’t know why I wrote this, and I also don’t know why I didn’t delete it.) She and her family move from Arizona to freaking southern Appalachia, wherever that is, so that they can grow most of their own food and purchase almost everything else they need from local farms. In her text, she brings up a lot of good points about the social and environmental benefits of eating locally grown foods. First of all, she points out that most of the energy used for food production comes not from agriculture but from the transport and packaging of foods. She also points out that by supporting local growers, you are supporting your local economy and giving small farmers a chance to not become homeless and sad. Preserving local food economies also boosts the variety of tastier fruits and vegetables available (aka not extinct.) Small farms are also often better for workers and for the land.

The biggest apprehension I had going into this book was that the writing style would be very snooty. Kingsolver herself admits that she was on the list of 100 People Who Are Screwing Up America, albeit only at number 73. Overall though, the book was not preachy. Anytime the danger of pretentiousness arose, Kingsolver would say something like “I fucking love tomatoes guys! Tomatoes are fucking amazing! Give me more!” and then everything would be okay. (Disclaimer: Kingsolver never said any of those things. Her actual words were “The first tomato of the season brings me to my knees. Its vital stats are recorded in my journal with the care of a birth announcement: It’s an early girl! Four ounces! June 16!”) Basically, the book is not about being holier-than-thou and forcing you to eat local foods, but about the experiences and adventures Kingsolver had with her family while trying to eat almost exclusively locally grown foods (most from their own garden) over the course of a year. And it’s about getting you to eat local foods.

Okay Kingsolver, some of your arguments for eating locally make sense. I can actually get behind you on this thing. But what about the other big topic tied to eating ethically, namely, the deliciousness of animals? Now, Kingsolver doesn’t go into it in detail, but she is okay with eating meat, as long as it comes from local farms and not factory farms, where animals are raped and boiled alive! (Jesus, I’m not even exaggerating there, it’s that gross, people.)

Disclaimer: I love eating animals. So, on to the next book.

Foer makes a lot of points about why eating animals is bad. I won’t go into all of them here (or most of them) because I’m lazy. One of the things he points out is that like 99% of our meat (almost everything, people) comes from factory farms, where animals are treated cruelly and suffer horribly. Which we all already know, but it’s always fun to hear about it again. Now, pigs and cows are pretty cute (well, pigs are… cows are imposing and scare the shit out of me), so I don’t want them to suffer. Chickens though? Eh. Foer says this is called the “species barrier” and says it doesn’t make sense that we care about the suffering of one animal more than another’s.  That’s true. Still, I don’t care about chickens. They’re ugly, people. They gross me out. In the end, I can’t bring myself to feel bad for a chicken (or fish… ugh, the creepy dead eye.) So what’s your next point, vegan Foer? How come you’re not okay with eating animals, but Kingsolver does it?

So then Jonathan’s all like, hey, raising animals is really bad for the environment. It’s even more wasteful than transporting foods long distances. Plus it creates a shitload of manure (haha) that poisons our waterways. Don’t you care about the environment, Barbara?

But Barbara’s all like, vegetarians have to buy a lot non-local foods, and that’s really bad for the environment too. And pasture-grazed animals raised on small farms  don’t hurt the environment. And when you don’t buy meat from happy farms, you’re not giving those farms the support that they need and deserve.

Then Foer’s like, technically, I do support small, happy animal farms. But taking into consideration the amount of meat that people eat today, those farms don’t produce enough meat to feed us all, and probably never could. Plus, eating is social by nature. When you eat meat, others see you do it and don’t know that you choose only non-factory farm meat, so you are propagating the problem by supporting meat eating.  See, by even eating meat (any meat) you are encouraging the growth of factory farms.

Barbara’s like no I’m not.

But Foer’s like, look, even if the animals are raised ethically on happy farms, there are practically no slaughter houses where animals die a humane death.

So which is it guys?? What should I do?? Just tell me!

(Disclaimer: Barbara and Jonathan weren’t ever addressing one another when making these points. I’m not even sure Barbara made all of those points. That part was all just in my head, as are most things. I just needed someone to argue against Jonathan and that was your job, Barbara.)

I actually found Foer’s book to be pretty confusing. The parts where he describes how factory farming is cruel, polluting, and a health nightmare (bird flu comes from birds, people! I did not know this. It comes from sad factory farmed birds. And Swine Flu came from sad pigs!) made sense. But I didn’t understand how Foer supports small farms, as he claims to, since he implies that people should give up meat, preferably even happy farm meat. He spends a good amount of time in his book pointing out ways in which the small, humane farms can be bad, too. I also didn’t understand why he was saying that mostly avoiding factory farmed meat is not enough- one must never eat it- but at the same time he was not really criticizing eating mass produced milk or eggs, which also come from depressing farms.  So why not say that cutting out as much factory meat from your diet as you can is a good place to start?

Foer’s book is a mishmash of different things: it includes facts and statistics, his own personal experiences, interviews with and essays from activists, factory farmers, and family farm owners, and some pages where he writes three random words in really big font, like in his other books. I found his writing to be sometimes off-putting, but that’s just me, so you can take that with a grain of salt. (For example, he makes statements like “KFC is arguably the company that has increased the sum total of suffering in the world more than any other company,” which equate human and chicken suffering in, to me, weird ways.)

The one thing I took away from all of this is that it is really fucking hard to eat ethically, people. There are organic products that are good for the land but score poorly when it comes to how the companies treat their laborers (especially organic products offered by large companies.) If you stop eating meat to boycott the factory farm, you might be buying more foods transported from far away, like from Brazil or the Moon. So whether you care about the environment, your community, how workers are treated, animals, your soul, or any combination of the aforementioned, it takes a lot of thought and preparation to make wise eating choices. No matter what you try to do, you’ll probably get ethically cock blocked.

Also, in case you don’t feel frustrated enough, I found this New Yorker article (a review of Eating Animals) called “Flesh of your Flesh: Should you eat meat?” by Elizabeth Kolbert and she’s all like “The cost that consumer society imposes on the planet’s fifteen or so million non-human species goes way beyond either meat or eggs. Bananas, bluejeans, soy lattes, the paper used to print this magazine, the computer screen you may be reading it on—death and destruction are embedded in them all.” So there you go, assholes. Look at what you did.

Anyway, I would highly recommend both of these books. They made my brain explode, as you can tell. But that’s because I have no background knowledge in these areas- I have no idea how these books compare to the eighty billion other books on ethical eating, like James McWilliams’s Just Food: How Locavores are Endangering the Future of Food and How We Can Truly Eat Responsibly (which argues against Barbara) or Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma.

Also, I may have to give up eating meat now. Except for chicken. Because I hate you chicken. You are gross. I am animally racist against you. And I will destroy you.

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The McTasty, and a picture of Jesus. Mmmmm.

So I went home for Christmas, because that’s what people do. One morning, my mom and I decided to go out for breakfast. Sounds harmless enough.

My mom is Polish. Capital P Polish. Like, not the stuff you use to make floors and other surfaces gleam, but from Poland.

Sorry.

Anyway, in the restaurant, the waitress asked my mom what she would like to have as her side dish, and Mom says, “Hash  brownies.”

She meant hash browns, people. I hid my laughter by pretending to cough into my napkin (I knew my chronic bronchitis would come in handy some day, sweet) because I didn’t want my mom to know that she had said anything wrong. I want her to keep making the same mistakes over and over again. Forever. So that more hilarity can ensue!

Once, my friend and her Polish dad went on a road trip, and he pulled up to a McDonalds drive through to order a McTasty, except he kept insisting that the girl give him a McNasty. “I want you to give me the McNasty! I said I want your McNasty!” The employee thought the dad was making untoward sexual advances, but he was just being Polish.

By the way, here is a picture I took with baby Jesus and his parents on his birthday:

What you don’t see in this picture: Me and my friend jostling past the three wise men and almost knocking over a shepherd to get to Jesus. He’s a celebrity, people. So it was okay.

What you also don’t see in this picture: People in their cars stopped in front of the manger, glaring at us hatefully. Let he who casts the first stone, assholes.

Look at me going on and on about Jesus. In case any Jewish people ever read this blog, here is a Christmas cookie I made for you over the holidays so that you don’t feel left out. I know it’s not anatomically correct, but I had to work with what I had:

Everybody else- I got nothing for you. I had no time to prepare other pictures because I had to go watch Forensic Files. I’m learning how to commit the perfect crime.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

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