Belief maps: part one.

I am still upset about the recent violence visited upon a faculty member in my department by animal liberationists. I am friends with members of his lab, I have taken a course with him (as well as with another psychology professor who made headlines several years ago after he publicly stated that he was discontinuing animal research because the lives of his young children had been threatened), he is part of my community. To see his property firebombed, his life threatened, to hear him called a "piece of human shit", because of his use of animals in research is horrifying (btw, if terrorists blow up your car, will insurance pay for that? I'm kind of thinking it probably doesn't. Seems trivial, but much would that suck to just lose your car? Second btw: what is going on with indymedia? They just post terrorist press-releases as news? Fucking hippies).

I have a long history of utter contempt for animal-rights activists who focus on animal testing in scientific research - there was a cadre of hippy dimwits at my small liberal arts college who periodically engaged in "actions" to shut down animal testing in the neuroscience department - think spraypainting messages on sidewalks late at night, rappelling from the roof of the library with banners and then just hanging out there for a few days, just a lot of really useful and productive shit. Left unaddressed in their endless letters to the editor of our college review was why they were so focused saving the lives of a litter of a few dozen rats (our neuroscience department was tiny) who died in order to contribute to the sum of human knowledge about the inner workings of the brain, instead of on all the thousands of fucking cows and pigs that we students were eating every day because we thought that meat was delicious and we liked delicious things.

I mean, obviously as a vegetarian I think there's a good argument to be made that the utter scrumptiousness of meat is, on balance, outweighed by the cruelty of the treatment that animals receive in factory farms (just slightly, though - god, meat is so fucking tasty). The strength of the argument against animal testing pales in comparison with the argument against eating meat, and the comparative numbers of animals involved are just ridiculous. So why was some scruffy asshole hanging outside of my library carrel with a banner when I was studying? I have to believe that there were some Daddy issues involved. Standing outside of the dining hall trying to get your peers to stop eating meat sounds like kind of a drag, but sticking it to The Man with an action? That sounds awesome! "All these know-it-all professors with their rules and their grades and their biomedical research, they're just like my dad! Fuck you, dad!"

So the terrorists are upsetting, but, I hate to say, almost expected. Just as I kind of expect there to be a couple of anti-abortion activists just this side of a murderous rampage somewhere in Colorado Springs, I expect there to be a few dangerously self-righteous animal rights nutballs somewhere in SoCal. What's actually been slightly terrifying is confronting the range of ignorance in the aftermath of the attack - the comments posted to news articles, etc. have been really terrifying. Some of them are just frothing at the mouth from vegan idiots - DID YOU KNOW YOUR GLASSOF MILK CONTAIN PUS ITS TRUE LOOK IT UP ON INTERNET, but some of it seems to be words put together by people who know how to read and write but not how to think or make decisions, e.g.

"I couldn't care less for the safety or welfare of anyone who inflicts harm on animals in the course of their work. Do your medical testing with computer models, on willing humans or not at all."

Really, you couldn't care less for their safety? What about the safety of people who kill animals and rip the flesh from their bones and then eat that flesh? Not worth anything to you either? So maybe we should firebomb little kids who like hot dogs? Also, this whole "computer modeling" thing is so transparently ridiculous. Computer models play a role in understanding how complex systems work, but how the fuck do you think you program a computer model? How do you think you set the parameters of the model and double check to make sure that your current model has some sort of biological validity? And even if your model is amazing and incredibly accurate and the best anyone has ever seen, the best you could hope for is to maybe model how one layer of cells in one small area of cortex handles one specific type of information under ideal conditions and never mind that it leaves out basically all of reality like genes and metabolic activity and all that stuff for the moment because no one in the scientific community would ever expect your computer model to replace reality; only a complete fuckwit would think that you could stop looking at reality entirely and now only do research on a computer model of reality and computer models will be science from now on and GAAAAH WHERE DID YOU LEARN TO USE YOUR BRAIN YOU DIDN'T LEARN RIGHT.

Okay, deep breath. The other inaccuracy that's been bugging me is this word vivisection. I'm not even sure what these people mean when they say vivisection - to me it means the thing that 19th century physicians and scientists did where they would basically dissect an animal while it was still alive, which is fucked up but then have you seen the 19th century? Nobody does that now. There are plenty of scientists who anesthetize their animals and then perform surgeries on them and then administer pain medications once the animal wakes up again, just like we do with people, but that is hardly comparable. And, as far as I know, the professor who got firebombed doesn't even perform surgeries on his monkeys! He euthanizes them once the experiment is over so that he can examine their brains. If you find that horrifying and morally unjustifiable, then all I can ask is that you again look around you. You are surrounded by people who euthanize animals every day so they can eat them in sandwiches, which does nothing to help us understand or treat terrible disorders like drug addiction. Are you firebombing your friends and neighbors? Maybe you should start, see how far it gets you.

Okay, so it's taking me a while to get around to my point, so let's call this part one. Part two to follow.

Mt. Lowe Railway Trail

Sorry to have been absent from my blog for so long. Turns out dissertations are actually kind of hard to do, not to mention time consuming. Regardless, mine seems like it might actually happen this year, and I am also set up with a job in LA for next year, so I am breathing a little easier this week. In celebration of having a weekend that I didn't have to work through, I decided to go for a hike today. I picked the Mt. Lowe Railway Trail pretty much at random from my book of local hikes, and I thought it was pretty awesome. Basically, there was once a funicular that went up this mountain to a grand hotel that was the place to rest and recuperate in the late 1890's for a few years before it was destroyed in various fires and storms. They had bowling alleys and billiard rooms and all kinds of diversions for the rich and famous of Los Angeles and Pasadena to amuse themselves. Once you were at the top, there was also once a trolley line that went around the edges of the mountains purely for sightseeing purposes, and it went over all kinds of crazy bridges and horseshoes to make it up the necessary elevations. Apparently it was an engineering marvel of the time. Now the hotel is in ruins and the rail embankments have been converted to a lovely hiking path that anyone can enjoy, even impoverished saps such as myself. You park at the edge of Altadena on surface streets, and then walk up one hell of a hill to get the hotel. This stretch is like a non-stop party on Sunday mornings, because there's just so many people. Little 4 year olds running around and trying to dig up erosion-control equipment, delightful older couples taking their morning consitutional, just everybody was out. Once you get to the hotel, then you take the old train embankment around in a big loop that goes on for most of the day. This stretch was almost entirely empty except for a few pairs of mountain bikers speeding down the hill (one pair with a hilarious dog wearing a backpack running madly after them with its tongue hanging out the side of its mouth). Here are pictures of the things that I saw!

This is a picture of hotel ruins, possibly a dance floor? Possibly with a bartender informing you that you have always been the caretaker?


Here are funicular ruins, which sounds like an Enya song:


Here is the rail embankment as it goes through the "granite gates", which apparently took eight months to cut. People were way more patient back then.


Here is a burned out stump of a tree that is filled with rocks. I assume this happened when there was a crazy rockslide and all these rocks bounced into the tree and got stuck there. Nature crazy!


Here is inspiration point, which has little fake telescopes pointing to all the things you can see from there when it's not too cloudy or foggy. It was beautiful and sunny when I was there but unfortunately the lowlands were socked in with fog, so I couldn't see shit.


Here is the scope aimed at Silverlake. You can just make out some fucking hipsters.



Going on hikes for me is like a neverending conversation between Little Toph and Big Toph. Big Toph is all, "In any venture, it is paramount to consider not only the probability of misadventure, but the consequences thereof in the current setting - we may be certain that we will not fall, but if we should fall, will it lead to a bruised ego, a twisted knee, or certain death?" Little Toph is like, "Holy crap, there's a cave in that rock wall. There's probably treasure in there. We should try to scramble up that patch of scree and check it out."

Strong recommend for this hike! Although it's 12 miles and took me about 6 hours with lunch and snack breaks, and now my knees feel like I'm 90, so I'd pre-dose with Tylenol if you are old and feeble like me.

Meteoric

So I was listening to the oldies station this weekend, and a couple of things that are weird occurred to me: first, that the Grammys have always sucked. When I was a youngster and cringing at the thought of Celine Dion's Falling Into You being the best album released in 1997, I sort of assumed that the contest was decided by a bunch of fat old men with visible chest hair and gold chains who maybe had been kind of cool at one time but now were not cool any more. From what the Oldies DJ was saying, this is apparently not true - the Grammys have actually been steadily getting cooler as time goes on, and have just now reached a point of moderate suckiness from the depths of awfulness where they once resided. Interesting aside: what was the best album of 1997, or rather 1996, since that's when all the nominees were released apparently? From my itunes I'd pick Squarepusher's Feed Me Weird Things, but I think The Score from the Fugees is the most awesomely 1996ish of the albums released that year. Obviously certain people are going to choose Pinkterton, and I have no problem with that. I do have a problem with anyone who picks DJ Shadow's Endtroducing. If you haven't admitted to yourself that that shit was vastly overrated by now, I have no use for you. It's been 13 years. It's time to admit it and move on.

Anyways, back to the Grammys always having sucked. Now, maybe I should be rejoicing because apparently the Grammys also share my distaste for the Beatles, but they take it a little too far. I'm not bringing Abbey Road to a desert island with me, but I sure as hell wouldn't shaft it to give a Grammy to Blood, Sweat and Tears by Blood, Sweat and Tears. Which same also beat out At San Quentin, which just makes you angry. I mean, c'mon. The best album of the year 1970 was a jazz fusion record? Do you hate posterity or something?

The one that really got my goat was 1981, though. Christopher Cross by Christopher Cross? Beats Pink Floyd's the motherfucking Wall? The movie version of The Wall had a very strong role to play in my adolescence, so perhaps I'm a bit biased (note for those who knew me in college - remember the eyebrow thing? That was because of the Wall). But this seems insane. I have never even heard of this pasty motherfucker, but apparently this album was noted for being one of the most influential soft-rock albums of the early eighties. Christ.

In any event, the fact that Outkast could win or Radiohead could get routinely nominated is like a miracle when you think about how lame the Grammys used to be. So Kanye should stop complaining.

Here's the second thing that is weird that occurred to me because of the oldies station: the DJ was describing someone's rise to fame as being meteoric, and I was like, that sounds very familiar but it can't possibly be the right expression. But then I looked and it is the right expression. This expression makes no sense, this meteoric rise. Meteors do not rise, they fall. They are one of the few objects in the world that are defined by their falling. If you were trying to create an expression that served as an intensifier for rising, it would seem that you could not pick any worse word or phrase than meteoric, save maybe dead monkey. Also, why do we drive on a parkway and park on a driveway? Airplane food, it's the worst! And those peanuts they give you!

In fact, if you bother to look at the definition of meteoric (which I just did), you realize that the aspect of meteors that is meant to be analagous to persons in the midst of a rise to fame is not the vector of their trajectory, but rather its swiftness and sudden but temporary brilliance, which makes it really quite a lovely turn of phrase when you think about it. Now I feel stupid.

I'm in danger of starting a migraine blog.

Mostly because when a migraine hits I'm stuck at school (can't drive home until my left visual field returns), too spacey to do work, and too attention deficient to read, so all I can do is blog. This one will be brief. I'd just like to point out something that I'd never noticed until my cortex started shutting down: how incredibly, mind-fuckingly red fruit punch Gatorade is. I bought a bottle to wash down some travel-sized Excedrin, and it's just sitting on my desk now, blowing me away with its Platonic ideal of redness. It's like a giant ruby that Sinbad the Sailor stole from a Roc and then mistakenly put on sale at the student store for a buck fifty. And also you can drink it and replenish your electrolytes, which you can't do with most giant rubies, only this motherfucker right here.

Things that I am crazy for not liking

Here is a brief list of things that it blows peoples minds when I say I don't like them. Dismiss me if you want, but what if I'm sane, and the rest of the world is insane?

1) The Beatles. Not in the sense of my choice in Beatles vs. Stones is Stones, although it is. If a Beatles song comes on the radio, I will change the channel. How can this be? How can I be such a hateful person? I will say that I used to like the Beatles, a lot, when I was 5. From the ages of 5-10 I liked the Beatles a huge amount. Now listening to them is like listening to running water. It is like watching the Goonies for the 78th time, but now as an adult. There's no way I'm going to get any enjoyment at all from any Beatles song. I'm sorry. (interesting note: I also loved Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass to an alarming degree when I was a wee tyke. I have no explanation for this. Also, just to add insult to injury, I still like Herb Alpert and the TJB).

2) Water. I love juice, I love soda, I love milk, I don't like water. I especially don't like water if I'm eating food. If I'm eating a delicious tuna melt made with rye bread and sharp cheddar and no goddamn celery (more on that later), and I drink a glass of water, that water tastes like a glass of water that someone very quickly dipped a tuna melt into. Tuna melt flavored water. It is gross, and I don't have to like it. I don't know how the rest of you haven't noticed this.

3) Bob Dylan. I'm willing to submit that I might eventually get into Bob Dylan when I am really old. Like when I'm 50, maybe. I enjoyed his book! So that should count for something. This one isn't really fair, I can't really honestly say that I actively dislike Bob Dylan's music, although I'm not really into it. What really, really bores me to tears is people writing about Bob Dylan. Oh my god, so boring. It makes me want to pluck out my eyes.

4) Tuna with celery. So gross! I have a childhood loathing for foods that mix textures too dramatically that I have mostly gotten over. I can now eat chili despite the fact that the texture of beans and the texture of hamburger have absolutely nothing in common with each other and have been unhappily married in this dish for centuries now. I have not gotten over tuna with celery. If you're eating fish, or any meat really, you don't want anything to crunch. Crunching means you got a gill, or a fin tumour, or something. Not delicious.

5) Tomatoes. I love cooked tomatoes, I love tomato sauce, I love ketchup (catsup?), but I hate fresh tomatoes. Haters are always like, "Oh, you just haven't ever tried a really good, fresh vine ripened tomato, where you can sink your teeth into it and it spews into your mouth all its gooey seeds and mush" and I'm like okay hater, I'm not friends with you any more. What are some other things that you enjoy eating? Babies brains that you suck through their soft spots? Because fresh tomatoes taste like little Vomit Exploderz. Seriously, the flavor of fresh tomato is strongly reminiscent of throw up. Don't get me started on Fried Green Tomatoes (the food - loved the movie).

6) Citizen Kane. Not that great. Certainly not the greatest movie ever. I don't care how revolutionary the shots were, Birth of a Nation had a lot of innovative technical achievements too, that doesn't make it the greatest ever. Did anybody really care what Rosebud was? I didn't. This movie was a snoozefest.

7) Awards shows. Timely, right? I hate awards shows. Emmys, Grammys, Golden Globes, Oscars, you name it, I hate it. I hate scripted banter that isn't funny and just makes you feel bad for famous people for being so lame. I hate acceptance speeches. You can basically just do one of four things: weepy, nervous, jokey, or straight ahead. None of these is entertaining, ever. I hate hosting. I hate song numbers, I hate dance numbers, and I hate hate song and dance numbers.

8) Garrison Keillor. AAAAAAAGH, I HATE THIS MOTHERFUCKER SO FUCKING MUCH. I HATE HIS STUPID MIDDLEBROW HUMOR I HATE HIS LAME FUCKING OLD-TIMEYNESS I HATE HOW HE BLOGS ABOUT HIS SEX LIFE WITH HIS GROSS OLD BODY I JUST WANT HIM TO FUCKING DIE.

9) J.D. Salinger. It would require a whole separate blog post to really explain why I hate this bitch so much. Let's just say that I wasn't surprised when I learned he force fed his family frozen peas, because reading Catcher in the Rye was pretty much an equivalent experience.