Skip to content

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.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on Big Cat Re-branded

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.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on Banana Blood

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.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on Yo (sigh)

By Meredith – March 17, 2007

Oh, The Madness

Like millions of other American workers eager to tread the waters of unproductivity in the NCAA office pool, my NCAA bracket is ready for the Big Dance. Everybody krump!

I did a humdinger of a job on this year’s bracket. In previous years, I relied on the vague understanding that the higher-seeded teams have a greater chance of winning as well as my own intuition: “Villanova must win, cause they’re from PA!… Bradley will lose, I never even heard of them… Seton Hall? Screw Seton Hall…” Surprisingly, my ignorance has faired me well, as I have always done better than at least half the office.

This year, to avoid the inevitable uninformed guesses (hmmm… Nevada or Creighton?), I decided to do some research. I studied the Times’ guide to “Cinderella” upset predictions, the Globe’s list of the strong teams, and various historic statistics about the tournament, like how no #16 team has ever beaten a #1 team. (Sorry, Jackson State… I admire your gumption, but I had to go with Florida.) The odds of picking the Final Four are 1 in 65,536, and the odds of a perfect bracket are 1 in 9.2 quintillion. And yet by using the same expert opinions that everyone else is using, my bracket bears resemblance to countless others (Final Four choices Florida, Georgetown, Kansas and Memphis).

But when it came time to pick the ultimate winner, I took my cue from an unlikely source. After finally seeing Capote, I started re-reading Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood: A True Account of a Multiple Murder and Its Consequences, which I first read when I was a 12-year old bent on exhausting all of the sophisticated reading choices at the Audubon Public Library. I don’t remember being so freaked out by it. Maybe age confers an empathy for humanity and instinct for self-preservation that teenagers don’t have. That grisly murder happens on the whim of psychopaths, that a family of four was menaced and slain for 50 bucks, that life is just so goddamned random has been haunting me to the point where I lay awake at night, contemplating the MADNESS.

So, in honor of the randomness of the 1959 murder of the Clutter family in Holcomb, Kansas, and the randomness that Truman Capote would go to Kansas to write a book about it, and the randomness that I would be hurrying to finish reading In Cold Blood so I could plug away at my NCAA Tournament bracket, I picked Kansas. May they triumph amid the randomness and the madness, and secure me office bragging rights.

Posted in Americana.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on Oh, The Madness

By Meredith – March 14, 2007

George Goes to Guatemala

President Bush’s whirlwind tour of Latin America is proving that his legion of Secret Servicemen really can’t take him anywhere (exasperated sigh!). Yesterday, the President of Guatemala welcomed Bush with criticism of the US’s deportation of migrant workers, while demonstrators burned American flags and hurled stones at riot police. And at a Mayan spiritual site that Bush visited, hundreds of indigenous protesters attempted to block the road with boulders. Said a Mayan leader, “We can’t have a man who represents war come to this place.” That’s our Bush: Turning Mayans into peaceniks.

The Bush Administration asserts that nemesis Hugo Chavez of Venezuela (who famously called Bush “the Devil” in front of the United Nations) is organizing the protests that have plagued Bush’s weeklong trip. Maybe so, but a detail in the NYTimes article makes me wonder if Guatemala’s anger needs coercion: “Local people picked up the kernels of corn that had been thrown on the ground as part of the welcome of Mr. Bush… they did not want the food to go to waste.”

Posted in In the News.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on George Goes to Guatemala

By Meredith – March 13, 2007

Movie Review:The Lives of Others

This much-lauded German film (Das Leben der Anderen) hardly needs my kudos. It swept both the European Film Awards and the German Film Awards, and it won the Best Foreign Language Oscar – an instant tipoff that it’s exponentially better than whatever movie won the Best Picture Oscar. (The Departed had fortuitous industry politics working in its favor; The Lives of Others had universal global acclaim.)

If great cinema is built on themes that can be neatly encapsulated in blocks of -isms, well, The Lives of Others seamlessly deals with more than I can name: Altruism, authoritarianism, heroism, erotism, voyeurism, socialism, moralism, intellectualism, and optimism.

Last but not least, the anachronism: How can a movie packed with so many heady concepts be so goddamn entertaining, and be about East Germany’s secret police squad (the Stasi – such a fun word to say, so rare the opportunity to contextually say it)? It makes The Departed look like a tedious redundant mob flick, and Hollywood look like an ebbing cultural force.

Posted in Review.

Tagged with , .

Comments Off on Movie Review:The Lives of Others

By Meredith – March 13, 2007

The Final Ski

It’s been quite a winter for this fledging second-year cross-country skiing student: I laughed, I screamed, I froze, I sweated, and I ate countless makeshift sandwiches in so many warming huts. But did I learn anything? Since my weekends will be occupied by various southbound excursions well into April, last Saturday was this season’s final exam.

Our journey to Windblown XC in southern NH was timed precisely for a 2pm arrival to take advantage of reduced admission and reduced crowds (by then, most of the morning skiers are ready for a nap or a beer). It was warm and sunless, and the snow was soggy but not melting. We glided to Barrett Mountain (“mountain” is a relative term – it’s more a big hill), which features a wide, steep, alpine-style slope that intersects with several zig-zagging traditional trails. My exam: To make it down Barrett without falling. Failure would result in self-loathing and, in all probability, a broken leg.

We huffed and puffed through unforgiving slush to the summit – 20 minutes of killer cardio. The view at the top of Barrett is just impressive enough to dawdle over while gathering up nerve, but soon it was time to face the colossal downhill. “Schuss!” Mr. Pinault sang, his 33 years of skiing experience allowing him to gracefully weave and dance down the slope.

I stared down the slope. Strangely, I didn’t dread it. I didn’t think “I am going to crash spectacularly.” I didn’t consider removing my skis so I could walk. Instead, I… “Weeeeeee!”

My full-throttle snowplow shaking against the velocity of my descent, I flew. And I remained upright. And judging by the stunned faces of the ascending skiers who yielded to my uncontrollable blaze, I was amazing.

Until next year, my twiggy little skis…

Checking to See If I'm Alive

Posted in Existence.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on The Final Ski

By Meredith – March 12, 2007

The $42,000 Purse: Gomorrean Excessory

Last week’s launch of the Louis Vuitton Tribute Patchwork bag (pictured right) sent twitters through the world of shoulder fashion. Twitters… of disgust.

At $42,000, this motley caboodle of 15 other Louis Vuitton bags from the spring and summer collections is not only the world’s most costly handbag, it’s also the most exclusive, sold to select LV clientele to ensure it remains a “rare collector’s item, handmade in a strictly limited, numbered edition”.

Louis Vuitton insiders further assert the Tribute Patchwork bag’s exclusivity by claiming it is impervious to counterfeiting. Not only is the intricate assemblage of 15 bags difficult to clone, there’s just no demand for counterfeits of this hellborn hand-bag beast. For the first time ever in fashion, sheer ugliness outweighs status appeal.

Among purse-oriented blogs, the Tribute Patchwork bag garners a resounding Ew, that’s so fugly and so not ergonomic. The Purse Page declares it a “fiasco”, while the Bag Snob wonders if the “tribute” is to designer Marc Jacobs’ insanity. I’m surprised no one points out the obvious quandary that such a purse poses: Matching shoes. I mean, that was my first thought.

Posted in Americana.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on The $42,000 Purse: Gomorrean Excessory

By Meredith – March 11, 2007

Tales from the Rails

A few weeks ago, I bragged about how I hardly ever get sick. Obviously my pomposity incurred the wrath of some God who wanted to punish my mortal conceit by visiting upon my nasal cavities bearing sickness (and leaving behind a gallon of ambrosia.)

Yes, I have a head cold. It’s all in my head, literally. Total hearing loss prompted me to take an over-the-counter decongestant during my lunch break yesterday. The box should have had a warning – DO NOT WRITE DOCUMENTATION AFTER TAKING THIS MEDICINE – because it made me skittish, almost frantic.

All of this has nothing to do with the commuter rail, except these nasal difficulties landed me on the 2:40pm train home, where I snagged a single seat near the door and spaced out over an open newspaper. About two minutes out of the station, the conductor began taking tickets when a large African-American man bundled in layers of sportswear approached him.

“Hey, just wanted to let you know that it smells real bad like sardines in here,” he told the conductor, gesturing. “Just wanted to let you know, in case it’s the terrorists.”

The conductor, an older white man with a slight gut and dripping South Shore accent – a walking MBTA stereotype, really – stared at him. “I can’t tell if you’re crazy or cheeky.” He turned away and continued taking tickets.

“Usually I can tell if they’re crazy” the conductor said, ostensibly to the man whose ticket he punched. The crazy and/or cheeky man said nothing and returned to his seat. And me with my nasal congestion, I was left wondering if the train car really did smell like sardines.

Posted in Existence.

Tagged with .

Comments Off on Tales from the Rails

By Meredith – March 10, 2007

Coca-Cola’s Soda Coda

Like many junk food peddlers these days, Coca-Cola is reeling from the fallout of the consumer realization that ingesting massive amounts of sugar and chemicals is detrimental to their health and well-being. To keep profits as fat as their stalwart customers, Coca-cola is scrambling to cater to the non-alcoholic beverage needs of the nutrition-savvy marketplace (here.) Maybe it happened something like this…

Coca-Cola Marketer #1: Ok, strategy number 1 is to push back against all this Type A Diabetes and obesity hoop-la by spurting a bunch of McBullshit McRhetoric that flies in the face of all sound nutritional advice.

CCM #2: We need to fight against high-fructose corn syrup’s bad rep, and promote that it’s not actuallyhigh in fructose. Let’s start an exercise initiative and get a bevy of Coke-chugging athletes on board.

CCM #3: “Learn the importance of balancing the delicious, refreshing calories you consume with the calories you burn.”

CCM #1: I don’t buy all this learning and balancing shit. I mean, how are I going to enjoy my frigging soda if I’m busy calculating my penance on the treadmill. Can’t anything be enjoyable these days?

CCM #2: We need to appeal to what the consumer wants to believe, that moderate amounts of soda can’t hurt and their 64-ounce, 800 calorie Big Gulp falls within the USDA-approved range of a discretionary treat.

CCM #3: “A low-sodium mainstay of American life. Soda has been around for decades – you’ve only been obese since 1990.”

CCM #1: Shit. Strategy 1 ain’t going to fly. Let’s move on to strategy number 2. We abandon the men and fatties sailing on the goodship sugar-pop, and direct all the women, children, and metrosexuals onto the wellness lifeboats.

CCM #2: We can no longer rely on the expanding market share of existing diet product lines. There’s too much in the media about how artificial sweeteners actually make people fatter, and cause tumors, cancer, blah blah blah. The educated health-conscious consumer wants something more than ‘no calories.’

CCM #3: “A revolution in refreshment: the healthy soda.”

CCM #1: (snorts) Come on, not even the most delusional, gullible gastric-bypass surgery candidate’s gonna believe that anything called ‘soda’ is healthy.

CCM #2: It needs to sounds natural, like it once flowed in an aquifer. It needs to sound superior to juice. And we need to use the word ‘antioxidant.’ The average consumer thinks antioxidants flush fat and toxins out of their bodies.

CCM #3: (deep breath) “Zero-calorie sparkling refreshment fortified with vitamins and minerals and infused with antioxidants that tastes great.”

CCM #1: (whistling) Not bad. Fucking fortified with buzzwords, that was it is! I’m sure development can manufacture something resembling this… this… hey, what do we call this stuff?

CCM #2: We need a name that says ‘this beverage is sexy, fun, and contains vitamins B3, B6 and E, and chromium.’

CCM #3: Well, um, you know I used to work at a big pharm firm, and when we were specing out an obesity drug that was never launched because it caused constant diarrhea, we played around with a name that I sort of like: Tava.

CCM #1: Tava! Like Tab with vitamins! Damn, I could use a Tab. (standing up) Anyone else?

CCM #2: No thanks. That stuff can take the paint off of a car. I’ll take a green tea.

CCM #3: (thinking out loud) “Sparkling Green Tea Tava”…

Posted in Americana.

Tagged with , , .

Comments Off on Coca-Cola’s Soda Coda

By Meredith – March 9, 2007