Saturday, September 08, 2007

Cavities and stomache aches

This post is co-sponsored by Karine, who shared most of these links with me.

Only in America would they think to repurpose a dessert food as another dessert. I present to you: Krispy Kreme bread pudding.


Don't be deceived by the yummy-looking food porn photo. This dessert is made from twenty four Krispy Kreme doughnuts and is drizzled with a sauce that calls for an entire pound of confectioners sugar. Moreover, though bread pudding traditionally includes fruit, this recipe ups the preservative quotient by using fruit cocktail—syrup included. Ugh. Someone's asking for a collective coronary aneurysm.

And if that doesn't make you sick thinking about it, then try pickles soaked in Kool-Aid, of which "children are the primary consumers".


I do like the Kool-Aid spokesperson's reaction, though:

Upon learning of the pickles, Bridget MacConnell, a senior manager of corporate affairs at Kraft, recovered, and then pronounced, “We endorse our consumers’ finding innovative ways to use our products.”

In related beverages-of-questionable-nutritional-value news, I've finally learned how one can deep fry Coke. Where, though, would one find Coke syrup? I doubt my local Safeway carries it. Alas, I guess my first taste of fried Coke batter will have to wait.

And finally, a Nigella Lawson repurposed recipe that would offend Jews and Mormons: Ham cooked in Coke.

I think I'm going to eat some fruit, now. And not from a can, either.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

The first birth metaphor of the process

According to my friend Karine, female grad students have baby dreams whenever they experience dissertation anxiety. I have already taken note of the phenomenon here and here. Karine has thought about posting a photo of her finished dissertation on her Facebook account as a counterpoint to all her friend's baby photos (I wonder what the grad student equivalent of cat/kitten photos would be?). And lest you think that the use of birth language is limited to neurotic female grad students, at my meeting with my supervisor about chapter one yesterday, in response to my description of the difficulty I'd experienced with the writing, she compared the first chapter to a "breech birth".

Which makes me wonder: what metaphor for the dissertation writing process do men use? The birth metaphor might seem a little clichéd but it has its uses. Being able to compare the writing process to something momentous and life-changing validates the dissertation, accords it the importance that it already has but that others might not understand. It speaks to the long gestation, the difficulty, the highs and lows of the process, and (presumably) the relief once it's over but also the fear of "now, what?" that follows. The more I think about it, the more I think the metaphor is appropriate.

And it's not that it's a new comparison. In her letters, Jane Austen herself twice compared her novels to children, noting of Sense and Sensibility that she could no more forget it "than a mother can forget her suckling child" and calling Pride and Prejudice her "own darling child". Interestingly, in both cases she was referring specifically to the finished, published novel. Clearly for Austen, the process ended not with the last sentence, but with the last binding.

Friday, August 31, 2007

Poor, inarticulate thing

I'm guessing that Miss Teen South Carolina is in hiding or doing damage control as her inarticulate, rambling answer during the Q&A portion of the Miss Teen USA pageant continues its viral rounds on the internet.



Honestly, though, it's starting to feel like the world's longest dumb blonde joke (and her accent doesn't help). Yes, it's a terrible answer that mangles rhetorical devices ("like such as") and references countries-in-crisis du jour. But not everyone is good on their feet. And how would you have answered the question under the same circumstances?

Leave the poor girl alone. It's not like she's the US President or something.

Monday, August 27, 2007

Leave your father out of this, Alberto

Beseiged by both Democrats and Republicans for months, U.S. Attorney General Alberto Gonzales resigned today, having endured controversies over illegal wiretapping and accusations of politically-motivated firing of other US attorneys.

In the news, the most quoted sentence of Gonzales's incredibly brief statement was one that alluded to his immigrant upbringing and his being living proof of the American dream:

Even my worst days as Attorney General have been better than my father's best days.

I guess how you take that statement depends on how you feel about Gonzales. I think that under his term, the reputation of the Department of Justice has taken a hit and that the civil liberties of Americans have been compromised. As such, and as an immigrant myself, I feel that the mention of his "father's best days" is disingenuous.

First of all, in terms of the basic necessities of life, of course Gonzales Jr. had it better than his father, what with the food, clothing, and shelter one can afford on a high-level government official's salary. To compare his own suffering to his father's undermines what his father might have gone through. Secondly, for Gonzales to invoke the so-called "American Dream" where anyone can succeed if they work hard enough insults those very ideals. Someone who "sought to limit the legal rights of detainees at Guantanamo Bay" most certainly does not subscribe to the US tenets of "liberty and justice for all", nor does he care about the rights of American citizens, whose privacy he sought to invade by tapping their phones. Finally, it's as if the reminder about humble beginnings will somehow mitigate the criticism Gonzales has faced, the rhetoric equivalent of "you wouldn't hit a girl, would you?" To go back to point one, once you've had lunch with the President at his Crawford ranch, you can't really play the oppressed card anymore.

So while rising from a disadvantage background to become US Attorney General is indeed an accomplishment, speaking from a position of faux-humility is ridiculous. Once you've attained a certain level of power, it's no longer a question of how far you've come. It's what you do when you get there that counts.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Photo red eye conundrum

Quick survey of the minuscule Excessively Diverted readership.

When fixing red eye in photos, what do you do when only one eye can be fixed? Do you fix one and not the other, or do you leave both red? On the one hand, one fixed eye must be better than none. On the other, symmetry is also good.

What to do, what to do...

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Boba Fett balaclava

So, he likes it. He really likes it.

(Phew.)

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Boba Fett Ski Mask

After learning many important lessons from my first attempt at my somewhat-well-designed but clumsily-executed prototype, I started a second ski mask, this time with better yarn.

Here is the front part, from the wrong side and the right side:



Here's the completed front part, and the two parts about to be sewn together:



Put together and worked in the round:



And almost completed, but not completely bound off in just case it doesn't quite fit Jeff's swelled head.



It does, however, fit me:


I've debated about whether or not to share the design, for two reasons:
1. The mask was made by special request. I like the idea of it being one of a kind, something special.
2. The mask's design is a little counterintuitive. The type of colour knitting I used (intarsia) can't be worked in the round, which would be the logical way to go about knitting a ski mask. There's really no point in knowing how I knit this particular ski mask if all you're looking for is a basic ski mask pattern.

General tips, however:

  • Starting points for the mask included the brief instructions here and here (scroll down). Honestly, if you can knit a hat in the round, you can knit a ski mask (or balaclava, or what have you).
  • The neck section should be at least 4 inches long and have fewer stitches than the rest of the mask. Cast on about 10 fewer stitches than you would need at the widest point and definitely work in a rib (probably 2x2). Increase to the number of stitches you want for the head over 2 or 3 rows once you've finished the neck portion.
  • The eye slit is made by simply binding off the appropriate number of stitches (mine was 6.5 inches' worth) and then casting on the same number of stitches when you get to the point again. Definitely go for the cable cast on over the single cast on.
  • BO for the slit at the 7 inch mark. Knit a further 5 inches before beginning decreases.
  • I didn't continue the 2x2 rib when I reached the "head" part of the ski mask, but instead switched to stockinette. However, the three rows above and beneath the eye slit were knit in 1x1 ribbing, for added security.