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Of record collections and cabinetry

Quotation of the Day for June 30, 2008

“It’s no good pretending that any relationship has a future if your record collections disagree violently or if your favorite films wouldn’t even speak to each other if they met at a party.”

- Nick Hornby

Back a million years ago when my record collection kept to itself, I used to file them in the order I acquired them. This made perfect sense to me — if you want The Smiths, check the shelf of stuff I bought in 1986 — but of course it was utterly impenetrable to anyone else. I think it took several years of cohabitation before I was talked into blending our collections, going with the more conventionally sensible (but soulless!) alphabetic scheme of organization. The collections seem to agree well enough.

Our film choices would definitely speak to each other if they met at a party. “My Tiger Claw beats your Drowning Monkey,” one would say, and the other would say “No! Drowning Monkey is the best kung fu! Die, fool!” and off they’d rumble until Kung Fu Mom stepped in to trounce them both.

I am recording this here as solid evidence that we do, in our house, generally get along, as we contemplate the possibility that if we want our kitchen installed before the middle of August, we may have to do it ourselves. Like, together. Because it’s hard to hang wall cabinets solo. Stupid booked-up Ikea installers…

Larval kitchen

Kitchens, at least, ours, have a larval form, in which they appear in vast numbers (159, to be exact) of bags and boxes:

Unassembled kitchen - 2

Unassembled kitchen - 1

How long is the larval phase? We shall see.

Countertops have an extra, post-larval delay phase, since they won’t come to make final measurements for those until the cabinets are in place. But fine. At this point, what’s another month?

Can’t get much shorter than that without LOLspeak

LIT 101 CLASS IN THREE LINES OR LESS.

1984

WINSTON: Don’t tell the Party, but sex is way better than totalitarianism.

EVERYONE: Surprise! We’re the Party.

WINSTON: Oh, rats.

They’re all pretty good — I’ll only quote the one, but The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and Paradise Lost are also excellent.

What can evolution tell us about one-night stands?

According to the BBC and a bunch of other coverage of a study published in Human Nature, it tells us that women aren’t as likely as are men to enjoy a one-night stand:

Just under half of women who answered the internet poll, published in the journal “Human Nature”, said they felt it had been a bad idea.

Four out of five men, in contrast, said they were happy with a brief fling.

Note the manipulative presentation of the numbers. In actuality, 54% of women and 80% of men enjoyed their brief romps, but that doesn’t seem as extreme a difference as “just under half” of women regretting it and “four in five” men enjoying it. But however we phrase these results, does this lead us to conclusions about, say, the ability of men to please women the very first time they hop in the sack together? Or perhaps conclusions about people who answer Internet polls about their sex lives? No, of course not. Women’s dissatisfaction must be evolution in action.

“In evolutionary terms women bear the brunt of parental care and it has been generally thought that it was to their advantage to choose their mate carefully and remain faithful to make sure that their mate had no reason to believe he was raising another man’s child.

“Recently, biologists have suggested that females could benefit from mating with many men – it would increase the genetic diversity of their children, and, if a high quality man would not stay with them forever, they might at least get his excellent genes for their child.”

However, she said that if women were designed by evolution for short-term relationships, they would enjoy them more, and the survey suggested this was not the case.

Coming down to earth from those lofty clouds of conjecture, now: what does evolution tell those of us in the reality-based community about behaviour?

Nothing. Really, really nothing. Behaviour is cultural. People’s emotional responses to circumstances — and I’m not talking about basic nervous-system, fight-or-flight-inducing circumstances, but everyday happenings — are culturally driven. You can’t conclude a darn thing from them about evolution.

Of course you can get lots of media attention if you try to do so anyway, particularly if — as in this study — you conclude that there’s something wrong with women.

Salon (Men: Score! Women: Whoops!) is so far the only media coverage of this I’ve seen that even mentions culture:

I’d sooner believe that this study illustrates the familiar stud-slut double standard. Even young women of the hookup generation — and I am one — aren’t immune to culturally commanded sexual shame; greater permissiveness toward one-night stands doesn’t necessarily make it easy for women to feel proud of their sexploits. On the same note, it’s no surprise women report less sexual satisfaction from their hookups: Plenty of women don’t exactly experience sexual shame as an aphrodisiac, and hookup culture doesn’t emphasize female pleasure so much as it does humping like bunny rabbits.

So: +1 points for Salon for addressing the culture aspect. A sharp slap with a wet noodle to Human Nature’s peer reviewers, who should not have published such a flawed study, and a big “boo, hiss” to all the science reporters who covered it without turning on their brains.

Peter Pan



Peter Pan

Originally uploaded by morecoffeeplease.

M’s first dance recital. We were a little nervous, since she hadn’t done such a thing before and only recently ceased bursting into tears at the sight of large crowds, but she did excellently as a “Lost Kid”. Costumes! Makeup (which I had to go buy, as I don’t generally keep blush, bright red lipstick or blue eyeshadow in the house)! Apparently it was all “sweet”.

D, who has not in his life had the joy of experiencing children’s dance shows, was duly initiated. Tap dancing Indians (I think I wore the same costume as Tiger Lily in about 1979)! Hip-hop crocodiles! Tiny fairies, one of whom grinned but didn’t move for the entire dance! Brilliant stuff.

This is not a drill

Cool wand!

(via the lovely Melle)

A GenX call to arms against Millenials.

One need look no further than the local newsstand to see the favoritism the Millennials have received. Whereas Generation X was routinely denigrated by the press, the Millennials have been compared to World War II’s Greatest Generation. In Robert Strauss and Neil Howe’s Millennials Rising: The Next Great Generation, the authors state authoritatively that “over the next decade, the Millennial Generation will entirely recast the image of youth from downbeat and alienated to upbeat and engaged.”

Sure, Generation X survived AIDS, Reagan, the Cold War, Tipper Gore, and A Flock of Seagulls, but those adversities, suggest Strauss and Howe, pale in comparison to what Millennials face today. Consider the stress of having to juggle a 30-hour work week while simultaneously maintaining Facebook, MySpace, and Flickr accounts. It’s enough to make your head spin! And maybe the Millennials never faced Hitler’s forces on the beaches of Normandy, but had they been around in 1944 (and had the technology existed), you can bet they would have blogged about it.

That’s how the light gets in

I took my dad to the Leonard Cohen concert on Sunday.

Ah, Leonard.

My officemate flew to Halifax a few weeks ago to see him, and before she left the two of us attempted to explain this mild insanity to a Romanian colleague:

Romanian colleague: So this guy’s in his seventies?
Us: Yeah.
RC: And he’s a poet? Who sings?
Us. An excellent poet. But, well, he never did have much of a voice really.
RC: And you’d run off with him?
Us: HELL YEAH. It’s your patriotic duty as a Canadian female, just like Pierre Trudeau (before he died, that is).
RC: If you say so. (Contemplates delaying her citizenship application.) See you next week then.
Me: ….unless you run off with Leonard.
Officemate: Unless I do. But I’ll call from Paris.

But it’s not just women, of course (quote from here):

Correctional officer Vernon Silver, 53, a married father of two stepchildren, will travel from Sault Ste. Marie to see Cohen this June.

Silver has been a fan since he was 17 for this simple reason: “Leonard says the things I wish I could say when I talk to women.”

Fortunately the shows were worth a plane flight. It was as close to perfect as a live show can get — and never mind that the main performer is 73 and never could sing all that well. The instrumentation was brilliant; the arrangements inspired, the sound mixing excellent, the musicians wonderful, the set list well-considered and entirely satisfactory. The only sad things is that it’ll probably be his last tour — it’s likely he wouldn’t have toured again at all, if his financial advisor hadn’t made off with all but a small portion of his money. So I’ll have to join Nancy White:

I was listening to music as I swept the kitchen floor.
I was needing a shampoo and I was pushing 44.
And I had one of those flashes that hits you now and then
About experience manqué and certain sadly missing men.
And I realized in horror as I stroked my double chin,
Leonard Cohen’s never gonna bring my groceries in.

Also, I suppose I shall at last have to give up my vague fantasy about losing half my body weight, getting implants, learning to walk in heels and being one of his backup singers. Oh well. Can’t have everything in life I suppose.

Happy retirement, Leonard. Just call if you ever need company in Paris.

Ow, my brain

Antimatter: does it fall up or down?

Fascinating to think about, and now they’ve designed an experiment (download the PDF) which will, with luck, provide an answer. But reading the paper made something in my brain seize up, I think.

(h/t to Slashdot)