What's Science Ever Done For Us? by Paul Halpern

or What the Simpsons Can Teach Us about Physics, Robots, Life, and the Universe.

Full Disclosure: I do not read non-fiction books on a regular basis. So, when I was randomly assigned to do a book talk at the next Sciences staff meeting, I was a little… put out. Luckily, I had just gotten in a shipment of books and this one was right on top. Elle, this one's for you.

Paul Halpern’s What’s Science Ever Done for Us: what the Simpsons can teach us about physics, robots, life and the universe was great. No, really! For you library geeks out there, this is fabulous book for a teen book talk or a summer reading club suggestion. It’s also a neat title to take with you to a cottage or something where TV may be scarce. I fully intend to add this to my list of book talk favourites.

Halpern makes science so very accessible. Whether discussing the space-time continuum or the coriolis effect, every chapter is set up using a famous Simpsons moment. Why just talk about radiation, when you can also talk about Mulder and Scully and the Alien Burns? Can we really produce three-eyed fish? Better yet: what happened to the real three-eyed fish? Is Lisa destined to a life of mediocrity or will genetics save the day? I had so much fun reading this book, I actually forgot I as learning things.

Or in some cases unlearning them. Like a lot of gullible viewers, I totally believed that that the water flushes in the opposite direction in Australia. But, as explained in chapter entitled The Plunge Down Under, that’s simply not true. Why would the writers do that to us? Read and find out.

I hope reading for work will be this much fun all the time.

how to shuck a crab

For those of you who don't know, there is an art - a delicate art - in shucking a crab. By nature, crabs are not known for their easygoing tendencies. They're hard-shelled and have pincers that can be a real bitch sometimes. Yet, they're highly sought after, because underneath that ridiculous exterior, they're soft and tender and (with a little buttering up) downright easy to swallow.

For the most part, they're pretty docile. It's true. Presented with an obstacle, these crustaceans will spend a lot of time finding a way to avoid it. Don't believe me? On a beach, try placing something in the path of a meandering crab. You'll see exactly what I'm getting at. The crab will first stop and stare at the new development. You'll almost hear its little crab-brain thinking: what the hell is this? Unlike a goat or a bull or an elephant, it will not try to muscle its way through - it knows its limitations. No doubt, within moments, it will try to sidestep and resume its original path. If you've chosen to place a large floating ring around it, it will realise (after much backing up and sidestepping) that there's nothing to be done and will bury itself underneath the sand to avoid detection. If it can't remove itself from a situation, it will try very hard to make you believe that it's not even there. It's fascinating really, to watch it go to such lengths.

A cornered crab, however, is a dangerous crab: its pincers can easily slice through skin, leaving you bleeding and raw; its shell has pointy bits that can make it hard to get a grasp on them without doing yourself some damage. But once you have a crab in your grip, don't waste time! The longer you try to get a handle on the situation, the more opportunity you give the crab to do irreparable damage to both you and itself.

The thing about crabs is that they know they have these soft mushy centres that most people find appealing. All their defences are useless once people figure out that a shell is easily cracked with well-placed jab. That's why they spend so much of their lives avoiding conflict - while they defend themselves admirably, they're always worried about that one lucky shot that will pierce them fatally. If you'd like to enjoy a real crab (not those fake stick things), may I suggest you have a plan as to what to do with your angry crustacean once you have it trapped. Blood and bruises only tend to spoil one's appetite. Then again, nothing like a little work to make the fruits of your labour that much sweeter. You've just got to ask yourself: is it worth it?

consolation prize

I know I've been lax, I know. I know I promised to post everyday, even if I had nothing to post about. But it's hard to be witty about nothing, yeah? As a consolation prize for checking out the site every once in a while, let me take you on a tour of this virtual space.

Above the posts is a video. I've (re)discovered Vimeo and, though I have no directing skills myself, am going to utilise this service to bring you some of the stuff I find interesting up there. I have a couple lined up. I hope to make this a regular feature.

To the right, you'll see "Tap This!" (formerly digressions) - this is my blog roll from del.icio.us, and its basically news and articles that have piqued my curiosity recently. Also on the left, you'll find my latest flixster reviews, my flickr pics and my current reads. I will be the first to admit that these don't get updated nearly as often as I'd like, but movie season is almost upon us and I promise to be better. I truly do. There's also the archives, though it's not nearly old enough to be that extensive.

Thanks again for popping by - leave a note to say hi. Better yet, start one of these of your own and we can write rants to each other. Elle and I have made a habit of it. Come on over, join the dark side. You'll like it here.

friday night highlights

Ahh, Friday Night. Time to get crazy! Throw off the shackles of the work week! How did I celebrate the end of five days working for the man? IKEA! What is it about this place that makes me so happy? I wish I'd had more money to spend, because I just love it there. Getting the news that my condo has been postponed another two weeks didn't help my splurging ways. You know what else is good about IKEA? $2.99 meatball dinner special! Yum!

Then it was off to JC's for some video game fun. First on the docket: Super Smash Brothers! You know, I usually suck at console games, with a few exceptions, so I didn't expect to be great at this right away. But I thought: hey, it's a fighting game. I like fighting games. How bad could it be? Oh. Dear. God. When I thought I was winning, I lost. When I thought I was losing, I won. I was so confused half the time... It feels like a fun game, but I need someone to explain the mechanics of it to me. Didn't help that neither of my companions really had a clue either. Anyway, my favourite character thus far is Bowser, but I haven't really played through a lot of them (I wanted to try Link, but I guess I wasn't alone). We resorted to Tekken and Rock Band pretty quickly.

Later, we just flipped through the TV. After watching some ubiquitous soft porn on CityTV and ShowCase, we settled on Omen III: The Final Conflict. That's right: the power of evil is no longer in the hands of a child. Starring the future-venerable Sam Neill of Jurassic Park fame, this movie was.. just... bad. Oh well, great lines like "birth is pain, death is pain, beauty is pain" and "where's your God now, priest!" kept me amused.

We also caught about thirty seconds of this movie about giant killer bunnies (god, I wish I knew the name!). I kid you not. They even had slow-mo shots of a bunch of bunnies hopping menacingly in a cave. Stellar! It was reminiscent of a nightmare I used to have frequently in university, which had been appropriately dubbed "Pink Fluffy Bunnies with Cannibalistic Tendencies." I had a great flash cartoon of this phenomenon, but it has since been lost in one of the many formats of George. I totally would have posted it, as I still remember it with great fondness. If you know this movie, tell me! It's been bugging me all morning.
Edit: found it! gold. simply gold.

Great start to the weekend!

the end of an era

Oh, HBO, when will we meet again? You have given me so much - so much - that I feel at a loss without you. And now, as all our love children fade away, I realise that we will always have good memories, but I wish I could be certain we will have more.

Deadwood was a shy foray. It took a long time to digest this offering, a dish that I rarely enjoyed, with its cowboys and expectoration. At first, I fought the urge to detest the show on principle; however, presented as it was with such a lovely side dish, I couldn't help myself. I will be the first to admit that I had put off finishing this for too long - but now that it's done, I will also admit to a certain... emptiness. It does not seem that the residents of Deadwood are any different from when we started this journey. This last bit was tough to swallow. But I'm happy to have sampled of it, if for no other reason than to say "I tried."

Then there was the glamour of Rome. When you take a girl out, you sure do show her a good time. All that flash and flesh! You turned my head, yes sir. With production values to match any blockbuster, acting to rival Stratford and a plot that kept me enthralled, you bewitched me... Italian-style. It was brief affair, I know, but every moment was dripping in a sensuousness that has yet to be rivalled. I pity those who haven't pleasured in this particular partaking.

But, the pièce de résistance was in the final act: you wooed me completely with The Wire. Your gifts of realism and drama, of Omar and Snoop, of tight scripts and rewarding foreshadowing... they overwhelmed me. We had our moments of weakness (Season 2 wasn't pretty), but you never failed to surprise me, hook me and keep me begging for me. You never tried to sugar coat it - you said here's the real city, take it or leave it. But you knew - you always knew - that once I had gotten a taste, I would never be able to leave. Saying goodbye on Sunday was one of the most painful things I've done in TV-land. Even as I sat there, hunched over, devouring every moment, I hoped in futility that it would never end. What a bittersweet taste it left.

But end, it has. With the last box set boxed, the final CD placed in its case... it's time that you retreat. I don't know where you go, but I await with bated breath and pensive heart for your next visit. Do not say you will abandon me thus, forever! I shall take comfort in rewatching Omar and Mouzone smoke Stringer, in Vorenus and Titus Pullo braving many a great odd stacked against them, in Bullock's jaw-grinding passion and Swidgen's moral ambiguity.

Until we meet again, my love.

on having a perfect life

Isn't it amazing how easily people can dismiss you? Just today, someone actually told me "oh, how would you know, you have the perfect life." *insert maniacal laughter here* Though I tend to disagree with this assessment, it did make me ponder for a bit. hmm... did I, after all, have the perfect life? Had I woken up a fairy princess and not noticed? I began to take stock of my situation.

On the surface, it did rather seem that I have been enchanted. I wouldn't necessarily call it perfect, but I suppose some would label it as such. I guess I never looked at it that way. I'm clothed, fed, sheltered and gainfully employed. I don't have a free night to call my own. And, relative to a Darfur refugee or a Colombian street child, I'm in Heaven. But I wouldn't say my life is "perfect" - not even close.

It's what I would rather call a "moderate success." And, as is the bane of any successful woman, this gets chalked up to "luck" and "circumstance" as opposed to "skill" and "hard work." I'm not going to apologise for making it look easy - I bloody well earned it. I shopped at the Salvation Army and did groceries at a food bank; I wore gloves to save on the heating bill. I worked three jobs while going to school full-time so I could pay off the enormous school debt that came with having no one to rely on but myself. My car has a laundry list of things wrong with it, but until the chassis rusts off or the engine falls out, I'm going to keep driving it. Blood, sweat and tears? Been there, done that.

And it's not just about money - I haven't lived a charmed life. I've lost my fair share of sleep, taken more than my quota of prescription meds, had my trust shattered by those who should care for me most and held too many friends' hands in too many waiting rooms. I've been to court both professionally and personally and I never want to go back. Ever.

The perfect life? Maybe, if we're measuring it in terms of shit withstood. I suppose, the real mark of a successful woman is how well you can hide all the crying, the shame, the insecurities, the vulnerabilities. Because no independent woman worth her salt should be seen as weak or wanting. That would defeat the purpose.

A long time ago (almost nine years now) I was given the advice that if I didn't feel happy, I should fake it until I did. Every day I was supposed to have new goal: today, I will stay out of bed all day; today, I will smile; today, I will not jump into the frozen lake. I used to brush my teeth and repeat these mantras over and over again. I became very good at faking it. Therein lies my perfect life: it's the one people think I lead because I won't give them grounds to think otherwise.

I still have the daily mantras (though, now, they tend to revolve around laundry and packing). I still obsess about money and want to avoid ever going back to glove-wearing indoors. I suppose, these days, I'm much more put-together than I have been in the past. That's not because I lead a perfect life; rather, it's the result of such an imperfect one.

What would I know about it? Try me.

top five

Because I've been fiendishly neglectful for the past little while, I'm taking the easy way out. Here are the top five blog posts (according to how much time time people actually spent reading them, barring my homepage, of course).
1) my review of Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen
2) retail therapy
3) fear and dating in Las Library
4) LilBro 22nd bday blog
5) the letter that would

And, here are the top five reasons why I don't blog more often.
1) pictures of sad children
2) ill will press
3) stuff white people like
4) unshelved
5) penny arcade
...you may blame these guys next time you think: "hey, why hasn't she updated yet?"

Finally, here are the top five personal blogs that make me smile, cry or just, plain, jealous.
1) Elle, how I miss you. Blog more.
2) Oh, Madox, despite us not having anything literary in common, I do enjoy you.
3) I don't know anything about LWL except that she's a brilliant blogger whose life is fascinating.
4) Lipstick Librarian
5) Nish, though new, I'm hooked; also: vested interest

/end copout