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Oh, the March Madness (Part 2)

“…one must be a seer, make oneself a seer. The poet becomes a seer through a long, immense, and reasoned derangement of the senses. All shapes of love, suffering, madness… he becomes among all men the great patient, the great criminal, the great accursed one – and the supreme Scholar! For he reaches the unknown… So the poet is actually a thief of Fire!”

– Arthur Rimbaud, on being a poet

My NCAA men’s basketball tournament bracket is proving most omniscient. I have correctly picked 7 of the Elite Eight NCAA basketball teams. Yes, I divined the winnings of Florida, Oregon, Kansas, UCLA, Georgetown, Ohio State, and Memphis. My mistake was picking Texas. Never, never vote for Texas.

Last week on the phone, my father accused me of being an intellectual because he read March 14’s post about how I picked Kansas as the champions because of a Truman Capote novel. But I’m not an intellectual. In fact, I am a prophet, seer, and revelator.

I am currently in the top 3 of my office pool of over 90 people. Co-workers are duly awed by my foresight, and I humbly cite my consultation with the New York Times sports page. Still, challenges lay ahead. Kansas must win three more games in order to fulfill my prophesy. They must beat a tough UCLA team tonight, Florida (probably), and (I predict) Georgetown. Go Kansas! Prove my supreme Scholarship in the realm of college basketball!

Posted in The 9 to 5.

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By Meredith – March 24, 2007

Lunchtime Walk in Boston Common – Spring in the Air

Yesterday I walked through the Boston Common. Even the dirty city air carries the molecular scent of snow melting into thawed soil. It felt wonderful to have warm winds ruining my hairstyle and spraying the remnants of winter’s road grit into my face. Spring has happened, drastic and ubiquitous, like we all knew it would.

The birds chirp with urgency, as impatient for the weather to catch up to the calendar as the office workers who thicken the sidewalks with their chins raised, necks exposed, and limbs swinging in the freedom of thin fabric. Construction workers loiter, sipping beverage cups and scanning for glimpses of spring leg. Homeless people gather in doorways, relaxed and laughing. Three chubby older women jaywalking across the street break into a trot, hooting and giddy enough that I can conjure them as breathless and fertile young girls.

And me, well, I’ll turn 30 years old this spring: 30 years of greeting the most fleeting of seasons with an innocent eagerness. Charles Dickens said change begets change, and I sniff the air and wish my life will change too. As calmly as the wind changes from cold to warm, as effortlessly as we shuck out of our coats and gloves, as uncomplicated as the advent of spring.

Posted in Massachusetts.

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By Meredith – March 24, 2007

The Emotions of Shoe Shopping

Psychologists differentiate emotions from feelings, in that an emotion orginates in the nervous system as an innate response to external stimulus, and a feeling is a byproduct of the emotion. For example, on considering the devastation of meaningless war, humans automatically experience the emotion sadness, causing most to feel grief and sorrow, while others feel outrage, and still others feel total pig-headed indifference and an utter lack of responsibility.

Since emotions are biologically rooted, they are linked to physical responses such as facial expressions. Cross-cultural studies have found 6 emotions to have universal facial recognition, suggesting that these are the 6 basic human emotions: Happiness, sadness, fear, anger, surprise, and disgust. (Other emotions, such as joy, curiosity, acceptance, shame, and desire, cannot be reliably identified in facial expressions across time and society).

In my experience, the only activity for which all 6 universal human emotions are induced in seamless transition is: Shoe shopping.

Happiness: Today will be the day that I find a pair of comfortable shoes that will aesthetically affirm my femininity! No longer will I have to choose between the comfort and stealth of sexless sneakers, and the style of pointy, hobbling heels. I have the means, the motivation, and the time to scour the shoe racks of Boston for that perfect all-season fancy-casual footwear that showcases my classic good taste and spectacular calf muscles.

Surprise: Ugly… tight… how does this stay on one’s foot?… blister-causing… skin-cinching… ouch, OUCH… Why, none of these shoes are comfortable to even stand in, let alone walk in!

Fear: Thousands of shoes… and none of them work. My feet are abnormal. I will never by able to find nice shoes that conform to this hideously large and misshapen appendages.

Anger: What kind of maniac has a wardrobe that can complement pink and yellow plaid pumps? How do shoe manufacturers get away with peddling these strappy, heeled, pointed sandal espadrille boot thingamajiggers under the guise of foot apparel? These are downright defective products that cannot safely worn by any human.

Disgust: Any woman who shobs herself in these stilts is subjecting herself to disordered walking. Wearing them is tantamount to foot binding, in that mobility is sacrificed for fashion and sexist notions of female footwear. We don’t deserve equality.

Sadness: I’m walking in a pair of Skechers Biker Mary Janes. Yes, I’m walking briskly and without pain, but without any added height or stiletto swagger. I’m walking, mired in woe, for truly I cannot be a woman wearing Mary Janes.

Posted in Existence.

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By Meredith – March 22, 2007

The Great Firewall of China

According to the Great Firewall of China test site (“Test any website and see real-time if it’s censored in China”), this site is blocked from being viewed in China. How cool am I, to be considered a threat to a foreign authoritarian political power!

The Great Firewall of China is managed by an estimated 30,000 government workers who use Western-provided technology to monitor the Web and block anything that’s not “healthy” or “in the public interest”. Obviously, this includes information about Falun Gong, the Dalai Lama, Taiwan and other taboo topics like democracy, religion, and pornography. Then there’s the “subversive” category – the subjective designation for everything else that undermines the authority of the Communist party.

I’m a little puzzled that I’d be considered subversive in other countries. Don’t the Chinese censors sense my discontent with America’s purported “democracy”? Does caustic satire about the banality of capitalism not translate? I mean, would any Chinese person in their right mind read this site and think “Boy oh boy, they sure got it good in America!”

When the China ascends to global hegemony, and I am rounded up and sent to a laojiao “Reeducation through Labor” camp (without a trial), I’m looking forward to learning the error of my subversive ways. However, I am not looking forward to hulling large melon seeds with my teeth for 18 hours a day.

Posted in In the News.

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By Meredith – March 21, 2007

Bloggers are Blogging on their Blogs…

The New York Post Page Six is hearsay reporting that Vogue editor Anna Wintour has vetoed the use of the word “blog” on Vogue’s web site as “garish-sounding” (here). I happen to agree with her. To “blog” has the onomatopoeic resonance that one is, say, simultaneously losing control of multiple bodily functions.

At last: Anna Wintour and I have something in common! Aside from our abhorrence of direct eye contact for fear someone will detect the squalid vanity of our brutish souls!

Posted in In the News.

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By Meredith – March 20, 2007

McSpin

The word “McJob” has appeared in the Oxford English dictionary since 2001, defined as “an unstimulating, low-paid job with few prospects, esp. one created by the expansion of the service sector.” This entry has chagrined the McDonalds corporation of the United Kingdom, who wants the definition to be changed because it is “out of date and inaccurate”. Yes, now that low-paying service industry employment has become a societal norm, a more accurate term than “McJob” would be just plain “Job.”

Unfortunately for McDonalds UK, our parlance does not take it cues from marketing divisions who want to tweak its public image. If it did, the definition for buzzwords like “innovative” and “adroit” would helpfully include exemplary corporate sponsors. “Class, who can tell me what this word means?” a teacher asks, pointing to “opportunity” on the blackboard. “Bank of America!” the pupils sing.

Perhaps by necessity, McDonalds UK places a greater emphasis on public relations that its American fountainhead (who, now that the super-sized criticism has slacked, is busy formulating a burger called the Third Pounder to great enthusiasm, here). McDonalds UK sponsors a website called “Make Up Your Own Mind about McDonalds” (here) to address the myriad concerns – dietary, nutritional, hygienic, environmental, societal, religious, moral – that one can have about their patronage of McDonalds.

There is a vast archive of “frank answers to genuine questions,” in which 1000s of customer concerns are addressed. This is a bold endeavor for a company as controversial as McDonalds, but they are apparently counting on the stupidity and ill-education of its would-be interrogators. The majority of the questions seemed to be misspelled, full of erroneous information, or just plain idiotic (see screenshots below).

Judging by the quality of the answers – which concisely blend public relations schtick, corporate integrity, and British condescension – there’s at least a few people employed at McDonalds who don’t have McJobs, they have McCareers and McProfessions. Here’s just a sampling of the questions:

Posted in Americana.

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By Meredith – March 20, 2007

Explaining Hooters Restaurant to a Frenchman

“You know what ‘hooters’ are a euphemism for, right?… Um, yeah, ‘hooters’ isn’t that crude, but you should never say it… It’s kind of hokey and old-fashioned, like ‘melons’ or ‘cans’ or ‘jugs’… No way. He said melons? Ha ha ha. Well I can’t imagine ‘hooters’ it is said amongst men: ‘Look at her hooters.’ That’s creepy.

“So all the waitresses at Hooters wear these low-cut white spandex tank tops… Umm-hmm… Oh, the bigger the better! I think they’re encouraged to pad… It’s funny because the company cultivates this wholesome ‘Hooters Girls’ image. Like, they do charity events and stuff. They have hearts and chests of gold…

“I went to one, once… No, it’s not only men. They have a kid’s menu… oh, it’s horrible. Can you imagine the poor housewife whose white trash husband takes the family out to Hooters, and she’s feeding the brats while he munches on wings and drinks beer and ogles the waitress? That’s so sad…

“The typical crap. Burgers and wings and mayo-smeared bacon sandwiches with a single leaf of lettuce… I’ve never seen one in Massachusetts. They’re mostly down South. It’s as ubiquitous as McDonalds in Florida… I think they’re in Asia, in Japan and South Korea… no, not China… India, I’d be surprised… Pakistan?!? Ha ha ha! Yeah, it’s called ‘Stoners’…

“No, I could have. In my heyday… Yeah, I know, but the overall package matters more. Nice hair and make-up, and agreeable stupidity… Well, that’s fine, because I wouldn’t want to. And if I was a Hooters Girl, there’s no way you’d be my boyfriend. What would we talk about? World affairs? European cinema? Politics?… Well, that’s France. This is America. For a Hooters waitress to be able to discuss Sartre would be pointless. No one would listen to her anyway. Do you think Hooters customers ever hear the daily special?”

Posted in Americana, migrated.

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By Meredith – March 19, 2007

Big Cat Re-branded

Scientists have discovered an entirely new species of big cat called the Bornean clouded leopard (here).

Or so the headlines say, giving the impression that Earth still has secret pockets of terra ruled autonomously by the animal kingdom that have yet to be subjugated by humans. The headline should say that DNA testing revealed that a previously-known leopard in Borneo is distinct from the leopards in mainland Southeast Asia.

The leopards diverged genetically over a million years ago, and evolved 40 distinct differences including spotted markings and grayer fur. “It’s incredible that no one has ever noticed these differences,” comments a Scottish researcher, with the unspoken “and lived to tell about it!” echoing hollowly in science’s triumph.

Now that the Bornean clouded leopard is a “new” species, big-game hunter are clamoring to be taken to a tranquilized leopard in order to fill the new void in their trophy pelt collections. The media interest has made it this season’s gotta-have exotic pet. And has anyone tried tasting these new leopards? Maybe grinding their bones into powder and sprinkling it on a roof for protection, or eating their genitals in a soup as an aphrodisiac?

Posted in In the News.

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By Meredith – March 18, 2007

Banana Blood

I can’t imagine how many Chiquita bananas that I’ve eaten between the years of 1997 and 2004. Not like I’m a huge banana fan – they are the utilitarian fruit, more “food for fuel” when compared to delectable berries, juicy citrus, and crunchy apples. Probably weeks have gone by without a banana, but there have been banana phases – I’ll buy three pounds, make fruit salad, make banana bread, and life is good.

But life actually wasn’t good. At least, not in Colombia, where the Chiquita Brand banana company was paying leftist rebels and far-right paramilitaries to protect their banana operations in volatile areas. Yesterday Chiquita agreed to a $25 million fine for funding a right-wing militia that the US government deemed a terrorist organization (here).

Oh, how nuanced the consumption of a humble banana becomes. On one hand, I want banana workers to be safe. If Chiquita allowed them to be massacred in their work environment, well, that would be bad. Maybe the only people capable of protecting the workers were the terrorists. What do I know? I just wanted a banana. To quote a flunky sales guy that I heard at a trade conference once, “These are confusing times. Our world is becoming increasingly global.”

Posted in In the News.

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By Meredith – March 17, 2007

Yo (sigh)

So my trip to PA was hastily canceled when Old Man Winter made a surprise guest appearance in the Northeast. Luckily, no specific events were planned, but I am bummed not to see my family.

I had planned on taking the train, so theoretically shouldn’t have been affected by bad weather. However, given the icy conditions and the unplanned crowds, I’d trust Amtrak to take me to Mars before I’d expect a hassle-free deliverance to Philly.

In lieu of the visit, I continued my on-going project of scanning old photos. Memories… digitized into memory.

The temptation to turn this website into an album of my childhood is great, but I will be satisfied by posting these three gems.

Taking my first unassisted steps, appropriately, on Penn's Landing in Philly (see Ben Franklin bridge in background). Mom recalls that I was beside myself with pride.

Playtime in the Rec Room (circa 1983). Note Brian's funny face and Dad's necktie, meaning he just got home from work. I'm sitting on my sister Laurie and wearing crazy yellow tights.

With my maternal grandparents. I love my timorous expression. My Grandpa Kraft was a stern man, and the respect he commanded awed me. My Grandma Kraft is the stereotypical sweet grandma - she is now 96 years old.

Posted in Nostalgia.

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By Meredith – March 17, 2007