ndanger.organism

Via Lifehacker which links to the New York Time’s article on Depression’s Upsides

I didn’t do anything big for my 30th birthday with the rational that I would wait for my 25‘th birthday. Then I thought “this year I’m turning python -c 'print 0b11111'! That deserves some sort of nerd celebration!”

Then I got sick.

It didn’t stop me from having a nice dinner & some bluegrass party times on Friday night. Then Saturday I had breakfast, conned my friend into taking me to the Co-op and Trader Joe’s, and then had 18 hours of uninterrupted fevered dreams. Sunday I sat around drinking hot water to try to loosen the massive blockage in my lungs. I also did all the work I was supposed to do Saturday.

Some more anecdotes, told as a pithy definition list:

Best fevered brain sleep decision

“I’m hot but I’ll get cold later when the chills come back. I’ll take just one sock halfway off. Brilliant!

Sunshine ray

Jeanne came over and we tried to make a lemon meringue pie

Bird-poop in the eye

Lemon did not set

Insult to injury

Jeanne insisted that I do not have the flu, which is much worse. I merely have a rhinovirus

Success of blood-line / failure of technology

The fam called to sing me happy birthday over the speakerphone. It was sweet, but I couldn’t understand a damn thing they were saying when we talked afterwards

Now I’m mostly better except that I keep spitting up masses of dead, bloated T-cell and have trouble breathing when I ride my bike.

My birthday has been postponed until next weekend.

As of 2010-02-20:

The 442nd is commonly reported to have suffered a casualty rate of 314 percent, informally derived from 9,486 Purple Hearts divided by some 3,000 original in-theater personnel. U.S. Army battle reports show the official casualty rate, combining KIA (killed) with MIA (missing) and WIA (wounded and removed from action) totals, is 93%, still uncommonly high. Many of the Purple Hearts were awarded during the campaign in the Vosges Mountains and some of the wounded were soldiers who were victims of trenchfoot. But many victims of trenchfoot were forced by superiors—or willingly chose—to return to the front even though they were classified as “wounded in action”. Wounded soldiers would often escape from hospitals to return to the front line battles.[citation needed]

Wikipedia

LOL butter!

Alien veggies via the CSA

My pumpkin, 2009

What happens when a runner’s stride frequency is the same as a camera’s frame rate?

The client is thirty-six years old and lives alone since his wife left him three weeks ago. She took the kids and all the kitchenware except for a large knife and a bowl and a coffee cup. The client admits her leaving may have had something to do with the fact that, without warning, he completely gutted the house. Tore out all the walls and ceilings, all the lath and plaster, right down to the studs. He says he did this in order to live like a primitive. When asked if it was successful, he says, “It was a step in the right direction.”

The client is a thirty-six-year-old male who lives alone since his wife and children left him over two months ago. He says there’s a darkness that separates him from other people, a heavy darkness, like looking at a person from the bottom of a well. He believes that if he could say the right words, then the darkness would go away. He says he sometimes knows the right words but can’t say them. Other times he can’t even think of what words to say. He has a very flat affect, speaks only when he is forced to reply, and these words he mumbles almost incoherently. His house has no electricity, he has yet to clean up the lath and plaster debris on the floor, and the window frames have no glass in them. He says, “I feel like I’m living on a meteorite.”

The client is thirty-six years old and lives alone since his wife and children left him three months ago. Last week he went fishing in the San Juan Mountains and now believes that there is no better fisherman than himself. He says, “I can’t tell you about it, because talking about fishing is silly. All I can say is I walk around in the water, and I know the instant the fish will jump for the fly. I cut open their stomachs and squeeze out the bugs in my hand, study what they eat, how it all gets digested, even the exoskeleton and wings.” He says he was sick before, but now he’s okay, and that it was the fly rod, just holding the rod in his hand, that cured him. His house is clean, the electricity is on, the walls have been Sheetrocked and painted white.

He says. “I’ll have to ask her, beg her, and maybe she’ll come back.”

Scott Carrier, Running After Antelope

Scott Carrier produces some of my favorite This American Life segments. There’s an eerie darkness to his stories that reminds me of Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy’s songs about depression and break-ups.

This American Life – #80: Running With Antelope (buy)
This American Life – #181: The Friendly Man (buy)

Success comes with a price, in this case a calcaneus stress-fracture. Ex-runner Mark, in reference to my then-upcoming MRI, warned that my cycling fitness was probably working against me: my cardio & legs were more prepared than my dainty skeleton. My 5 year old New Balance kicks probably weren’t helping, especially since last year I half melted the soles while drying them in a fire. Hiking ruins everything.

Since I don’t have any pain while walking or biking I dodged having to use crutches, which is good since I hear that cycling with crutches is terrible. But I am off “high-impact” foot activity for 6 weeks. Looks like it’s all about yoga and/or swimming for the next month and a half.

It also means I’ve got some open race entries up for grabs. Anyone want to run the Partners in the Park on October 25th (in York, PA) or the Spirit of Pittsburgh half marathon on November 1st? Upside: free. Downside: they’ll think you’re me.

Via Open Congress:

I can’t second guess the Nobel, but I will say this: we never expect a conservative Republican to be chosen. For instance, when Ronald Reagan helped to bring about the end of the Cold War and he was ignored by the Nobel Committee. I mean, to me, we’re just used to having the Nobel people picking Democrats or liberals to honor in this way.

Sen. Orrin Hatch [R, UT]

In the run-up to the G-20 I was surprised at how many people I knew expressed completely leotarded opinions. They drastically over-simplified the issues: “Capitalism is poison!”, “Protesters should be shot!”, “Cops evil!”. At the time I felt like should write a blog post and set the record straight. It was going to both point out that global capitalism helped drag the world from the stagnation of feudalism as well as question the assumption that wealth disparity is always a problem. It was to remind people that constitutional rights are meant to protect unpopular opinions and that these rights are eroded quietly, relying on the complicity of a quiet populace. It was to reinforce that we are all flawed people with flawed opinions and that the principle of charity also applies IRL.

Instead I did nothing.

So now I present my views in three words:

Shit is complicated

That’s actually the edited version. The director’s cut is twice as long.

Shit is complicated.
And you’re dumb.

The G-20 itself is nicely summarized in this image (a Failblog’ed version of ccbarr’s photo)

If you actually want to learn more, you can check out some actual reporting:

• Oakland’s Long Night
• What Happened at Pitt?
• DA won’t charge some arrested at G-20 protests
• Men arrested for G-20 Twittering say it’s free speech

War Songs

I was reminded of the G-20 when I saw Mother Courage at Duquesne. Not bad, though in the age of movies I question a three hour play. It did make me run home and listen to one of my favorite “found in a used bin for $6″ CD’s: Let No One Deceive You: The Songs of Bertolt Brecht

Frankie Armstrong – Lullabies I, II, III-To My Countrymen-Lullaby IV
Dave Van Ronk – The Legend of the Dead Soldier

The arrangements are sparse, relying on the voices & Brecht’s lyrics.

Then I listened to all the Crass albums.

Crass – Yes Sir, I Will Track 7 (buy)
Crass – Shaved Women (buy)

The Yes Sir, I Will track is 20 minutes of abstract ranting, I think the entire B-side of the original record. Yes Sir is my favorite Crass album because of it’s insanity.

Shaved Women isn’t about war, but it is amazing: Eve Libertine’s wailing, the train samples, the “screaming babies” chant, the sparse main guitar… It’s hard to imagine that people’s heads didn’t explode in 1979, especially when you consider that Reality Asylum [Youtube] was the A-side.

PS

And if you’re looking for something to read, I recommend Joe Sacco’s Palestine. The first 8/9th’s are amazing. The last chapter probably is too, I just haven’t read it yet.

Last night at 6:45 pm I was at Finnegan’s Wake for Heather’s birthday. Then we watched the Pirates lose 8-4 and Foreigner careen through a mediocre set. I got home around 11 pm and made some late night pasta in preparation for The Great Race.

I was asleep by midnight.

At about 1:45 pm I got to hear an argument outside. I didn’t catch the details, but Allie was mad at Pam because Pam wanted to call Dominick to get a ride. But according to Allie he just wants to fuck her and isn’t even taking care of their 6 year old. Allie said that If Jamie ever did that to her she wouldn’t stand for it. Pam just wanted to know where her phone was. She was also mad because Allie wasn’t listening to her. I think they both made reasonable arguments, I just wish they had made them quieter, or somewhere else.

For the record, Allie stated several times that she wasn’t drunk.

At 6:30 am I woke to my alarm and the sound of rain.

I had planned to eat eggs but realized that might be a bad running breakfast since running is so much harder on your stomach than biking. Some googling turned up recommendations to stick to simple carbs. To reinforce the point, the search also turned up information on Running Trots. I’ve heard of people pulling over in the woods during cross-country meets but didn’t know it was common enough to merit a name. Scared potentially shitless, I ate a little left over cold pasta and the Snickers nutrition bar (really, I couldn’t make that up) that came with my registration packet.

After pinning my # & attaching my timing chip, I got on my rain bike and headed downtown to catch the bus.

The line started at 3rd & Stanwix and wrapped up past the PPG fountain. It was a wet chilly wait for the bus, a comfortably heated bus ride, then a chillier wait at the start. To be fair, some of the chills at the start was probably pre-race jitters.

At the start I ran into Will, who worked a checkpoint with Louisa during the Pittsburgh-Roubaix and his friend Carolyn(?) who I met once at a Bike Pittsburgh fundraiser. She was an actual runner and looked the part. Will was wearing a stained white cotton T-shirt, guerrilla style.

While listening to droning opening ceremonies I looked around and saw Neil, partner to Boca Chica and big cheese at my CSA waving at me. I waved back.

We waited in the rain another 10 minutes while someone said something unintelligible over a megaphone. The racers would occasionally boo or shout “start the race”–a much clearer message. Eventually there was a gun shot and we all shuffled forward to the timing pad and then started running.

Like any large amateaur sporting event, the first 10 minutes was a cluster of almost running over slower people. Then it thinned out a bit and I settled into a rhythm.

My splits were around 7 minutes/mile, faster than my normal pace but I figured it was sustainable given that the course was mostly downhill.

One of the slight uphills was on Boulevard of the Allies right before town. I started to feel a little bad but grabbed some water and was fine.

Then it was mile 6 and we were turning the corner into Point State Park. In true “I actually used to be a sprinter” fashion I sped up for the last 200 feet, shaving at least .1 seconds.

I came in with a wall clock time of a little less than 42 minutes. They’ve since posted the results: my chip time is 40:56, which I’m pretty happy with. My “I’ll be disappointed if I run slower than this” was 50 minutes (5 min/km), my realistic goal was 42-45 minutes and my dream time was under 40. 40:56 is 6:35.4 splits. It puts me 256/6961 overall, 238/3860 males and 32/503 for my gender & age division.

For comparison the fastest male was 30:35, the fastest female was 35:59.

After drinking ice water and eating two orange slices & a banana I walked to my bike and rode back to the southside. I ran into Jonah outside of Yo Rita (his employer) then went back to my apartment (which is a convienent 50 feet from Yo Rita).

I changed into dry clothes and finished my left over pasta & both of the recovery drinks from the registration packet. Then shower and finally a slice of Pizza Sola before a half an hour nap.

Then I woke up and pooped. Twice. But at least it wasn’t while running.

According to Google Analytics, at least 1 pervert with poor spelling.

Clearly, the white balance is different.

Luckily I have until November to train.

Thanks to Jack for the tip.

EDIT: if you’re thinking “oh no, I missed my chance to donate!” fear not: donations are open until July 17th. See the original post begging for donations.

Another year down.

Saturday was pretty uneventful. I caught a ride up with Kimberly and we got there early enough that I could get out with the first batch of riders. After pushing through the first weed-out hill I settled into a nice solo pace. I skipped lunch and stopped only at the last rest stop to pee & refill my water bottles (though not at the same time). Somewhere around 5 miles out I was caught by a group of about 5 riders, including two UPMC guys who I see every year (mostly passing me).

I rolled into Edinboro around noon and ate some recovery food and laid around. Finally I got around to setting up my tent and taking a shower. That’s when I found out what I forgot: soap. So I got a handful of soap from the dispensers by the sinks and ran into the shower. Truly classy.

While reading under a tree in front of my tent another camper came and asked if he could share some shade. His name was Greg and it was his first year riding. Going to get some more snacks I ran into Jim (team captain, who snapped a picture) and Kimberly and Jim (not team captain). Kim & Jim got their stuff and met me by my tent to set up their own camps. Jim had a dorm room but had also brought his ultralight camping hammock. He strung it between inverted soccer goal posts and hung out talking. In the meantime Shane–old college buddy & hiking trip planning extraordinare–showed up and pitched his tent in our circle. In conversation it turns out that the Rachel Carson Challenge is already full! Between that, the Pittsburgh Marathon and the Megatransect it seems like this will be a year of near misses.

Dinner was better than past years, with a slightly better array of cafeteria food.

After dinner we met up with Shane again to catch the shuttle to downtown Edinboro. We had some time to kill before the Pens game, so we got some ice cream at Dairy Supreme. Mint malted = awesome.

Next we hit the Edinboro Hotel for a pitcher of Yuengling and some pre-game coverage. But the bar was a little crowded so we ended up at Boro Bar. Boro had a dark wood-paneled interior, Killian’s red, and camp-buddy Greg. Turns out Greg had been there since a little after 6 waiting for the game to start.

The game started well but when it got to 3-0 we decided to head back to campus.

I fell asleep immediately.

Sunday’s breakfast was similarly better than previous years. I was particularly proud of the oatmeal/Cinnamon Toast Crunch suicide.

The team picture was another pleasant success. Not only was I early, but everyone else was on time too. We were done by 7:17.

Then I pushed my way to the front of the pack to avoid getting stuck in the crowd. I promptly almost missed the first right hand turn then hit the road. Again I tried to ride solo but spent some time riding with a rider in a Papa John’s jersey who knew Nathan and Andrew from Vocollect. After yo-yoing in and out of some small groups, I solo’ed past lunch and followed signs. Soon I was on a road that seemed suspiciously busy and poorly marked. I thought I was saved when I saw someone ahead directing bikes, except that the bikers were coming from the other direction. I followed them and ended up at the 2nd rest-stop. Somehow I had gone backwards 15-20 miles. Oops.

At the rest stop I saw Kimberly and Jim (not team leader). After eating and talking to Rob–Thick Bikes SAG van driver–I rode with Kimbely and Jim to lunch, where it started to rain. There I ate a turkey sandwich with lots of other Team Vocollect riders before heading out solo. On the road Jim (not team leader) passed me. I thought about trying to grab his wheel, but was feeling the extra miles and decided to go alone. Further on I saw an Alcoa jersey on the side of the road and slowed, thinking it might be Jim. Turns out it was someone who looked not at all like Jim, but who did need help. I tried but he needed a schrader-valve compatible pump.

The ride continued into the outskirts of Conneaut where I ran into a guy whose chain had exploded. I stopped and used my chain tool to help him. Twice, unfortunately, since I didn’t realize that he hadn’t routed the chain the first time. Apparently he didn’t do much bike maintenance since the chain was also covered with a 1/8″ layer of black grease which quickly transferred to my hands, jersey, bibs & bartape. Yay.

A few more miles and I was at the lake. Pictures (once again I promptly saw team leader Jim), pizza, etc. etc. I changed clothes and waited a few minutes for Kimberly. We headed up the final hill to load the bikes on the truck and get on the bus back to Moraine.

The bus beat the truck by half an hour, so we waited by the lake. We finally got them loaded on the bike rack and headed back to Pittsburgh. We were both starving and were planning on getting some Kassab’s until we got out of the car and saw they were closed. Kimberly took a shower while I did some research. Turns out Gypsy was open on Sunday so we headed in for some prix fixe. Decent.

Finally Kimberly went to her friend’s chakra dance birthday party while I started to unpack.

I woke up on the sofa around 1 am. I hadn’t yet showered. Gross.

Well holy cow.

As of early June, yinz have donated $730! I thought we were in a recession? I’ve had to bump up my fundraising goal about 5 times already. Anyway, thanks everyone.

In other news, did I mention I bought a shiny new bike frame for the ride? Unfortunately this is a back-breaking-ly busy week, so it’s been sitting prettily in it’s cardboard shipping box. Hopefully I can get it together for this weekend, otherwise it’s old faithful.

Once again, I’m riding the Escape to the Lake. It’s the 2-day 150 mile fund raiser for the National Multiple Sclerosis Foundation. It’s the one-time a year when I ask everyone to donate money, unlike all the other times of year when I just try to borrow your car and eat your food.

You can sponsor me using the wizzy online payment system; if you’d rather give me a wad of cash or a check, email me.

PS: and this year I’ll be riding a shiny new bike frame. Oooooh yeah.

1. Uzumaki

In running for this year’s “least expected link source” award, Jace from the mudd up blog recommended Ito Junji’s Uzumaki. It’s an amazing combination of Edward Gorey, H. P. Lovecraft and Twin Peaks: intricately inked depictions of horrific events occurring in a remote Washington Japanese town. Unlike a lot of manga, Uzumaki has a plot and doesn’t waste time getting to it. It also has a surprisngly tender ending (kind of). For the cash strapped, you can always steal it.

2. Black Hole

Black Hole is an allegorical teen fable where sex with the infected results in mutation. Creepy & more touching than expected.

3. Maus

It seems shallow to put two twisted supernatural horror comics before a tale about both the holocaust and the complications of a father-son relationship, but basically this list is in arbitrary order anyway. Not much to say that hasn’t been said already.

4. Bottomless Belly Button

I feel like I should dismiss this as self-serving pretentious art crap (which is kind of how I felt about The Mother’s Mouth) but I really liked it. It’s about a maladjusted and self-deprecating 20-something and his dysfunctional/strangely-functional family. And it contains comic book sex.

5. Watchmen

I read it before the movie and thought it was pretty darn good. Then I read it after and the opinion was reinforced. In comparison to the movie, the movie ending seemed more realistic but the comic more believably portrayed the Nite Owl as a flabby middle aged dude with good tech. Remember in the movie where Nite Owl and Silk Spectre run down the jail hallway kicking rioting prisoner ass? In the book they punch two people.

6. FLCL

Angsty teenage boy + hyper(sexual) older girl with guitar + robot = insane manga. Maybe it’s my ADD, but I found it totally addicting. Stepping out of conventional, FLCL also plays around with the comic format, changing animation styles and making fun of the genre. The movie’s good too. Read it for free.

7. Fun Home

Alison Bechdel’s autobiographical tale about her father’s repressed homosexuality and her budding lesbianism.

8. Sandman

Another classic. Great despite inspiring a generation of ankh wearing goths. Astute readers might note that the photo is not comic artwork but a rendition of Tom Cruise as the Corinthian. Thanks, internet!

9. Monster

A sprawling psychological thriller, Monster is engrossing through all 162 chapters. I read it in two marathon sessions (to the detriment of everything else on my todo list). Its only faults are the near canonization of protagonist Dr. Kenzo Tenma and occasional meandering sidestories. Read it free.

10. Rurouni Kenshin

Apparently a classic in Japan, Rurouni Kenshin is part teen action, part romance, part history lesson and part bushido love-fest. Despite heavy doses of melodrama, overly-cute manga moments and typical samurai schlock, it’s an engrossing story. Unfortunately it also weighs in at 255 chapters. You can cheat by watching the movie, which tells the back story of titular protagonist Kenshin. Read it for free.

11. Claymore

Gothic horror manga starring women with big swords. Claymore does an excellent job of creating mood. I found the plot kind of meandering in the middle, but it seems to have picked up. An ongoing series, it’s hard to say how it will end up. Read it free.

Inspired by DHD:

Days using twitter: 780
Number of updates: 33
Best tweet: 2009-03-16

Tired of the old republic? Now, thanks to Outloud Opinion you can get The New Republic podcast.

Thanks to Marin for the Facebook tip, though I guess she was promoting her article, Blowing Sunshine (mp3)