Radical Transparency

There's a Borges story, I think, involving an unintentionally poetic murder and the observation that history repeats literature.

Makes sense. Literature, if it's good, is true.

Apparently some birds don't lie either.

Thank you PSFK.

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Bumble bees want to be nice. And they are. They won’t sting you if you just look at them. The only times they sting you are when you try to grab them. Or, when you step on them. Or, when you put them in your mouth. So, don’t catch them or walk on them. Or try to eat them. ‘Cause you’ll be stinged. They like when people look at them. And they like looking at us.

Or so says a three year old.

An accidental metaphor? For everything?

Thank you, Lauren, for listening carefully and taking notes.

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Catching up on The Bloggess, and I just learned that raccoons don't have saliva.  Granted, comments of the day from Bloggess readers are not the most reliable sources of zoological information (does zoology include saliva?), but, even if that's totally made up, isn't the thought of a saliva-less mouth really weird?  Like sort of unimaginable?  From the mouth perspective, anyway?  I mean we have seen snake and chameleon tongues, and, even if snakes and chamelons do have saliva, it looks to me like they don't, so my imagination can clearly handle the concept.  If a reptile is involved.  Or a fish, I guess.  Though I wonder if it's fair to call those things in the toungue-place in fish-mouths tongues.  Might we be anthropromorphizing, and the real function of the fishy-tonguey-thing is short term memory?  Though maybe it's not fair of me to define tongue so narrowly.  Who said tongues had to taste, and weren't allowed to remember or farm water-aphids?  If water-aphids exist and are beneficial to certain fish and their saliva-less raccoon tongues.

Ok.  Enough.  Sorry.  I get like this when I read The Bloggess.  It's weird.

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Wow.



Now imagine you're that book's author, and watch the video again.

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Some of my friends provide a lot of content to the Green Section of Philly.com, and, in October, they asked me to write this little editorial for them.  Apparently, the powers that be weren't impressed.  But I kind of like it.  So onto the internets it goes...

In September, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) sent a letter to Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield urging them to eliminate cow's milk from their ice cream and suggesting that they replace it with human's milk.  They explained that not only is mother's milk far healthier than cow's milk, but commercial dairy farming, which ultimately consists of enslaving cows and holding them in perpetual lactation through forced pregnancy, is fundamentally inhumane.

Ben and Jerry responded quickly and politely:

We applaud PETA's novel approach to bringing attention to an issue, but we believe a mother's milk is best used for her child.

On their blog, PETA responded to the response:

Hey, guys, that's our point: Cow's milk is for baby cows.

And it's a good point.  PETA is absolutely right: cows are treated inhumanely, and that's something people should be working to stop.

I'm not impressed, however, with the means by which PETA is trying to stop it.

Whether or not breast milk ice cream is a reasonable or virtuous idea, it's radical.  It asks consumers to see things differently, and it asks industry to do things differently.  And, in my opinion, writing a note to Ben and Jerry, asking them to take a big business risk, and sending the letter out in a press release is not the way to make radical change.  I think it does little but legitimize the opinions of those that consider PETA an uncreative, self-congratulatory fringe organization.

And, as someone that wants there to exist a strong activist group fighting the greed and cruelty that have led humans to treat other species so thoughtlessly, I'm frustrated.

I don't think PETA has to live on that fringe, and I have a suggestion.

I suggest that PETA work to prove the concept that breast milk ice cream is both culturally palatable and economically viable.

Over two million people in the PETA community, right?  I bet there are a solid handful of pregnant women and new mothers in that group, and I bet they'd be happy to make a donation to some PETA R&D efforts.

And Ben and Jerry "applaud" your "novel approach," no?  Maybe they'd be willing to lend you a recipe or two.  Maybe they'd even lend you a graphic designer and make you up a batch of PETA branded pint containers.

Produce the ice cream, PETA.  Lug a machine into the office.  Buy some sugar.  And make a batch of vanilla.

Then give it away.  Get feedback.  Tell people about it.  Collect some data.  Make a taste test video.  Produce some more.  Send it to the FDA for testing.  Try to sell it cheap.  Get in contact with hospitals and maternity stores and online communities populated with moms-to-be, and talk to them about cost of production.  Buy from the reasonable sellers.  Produce from that stock.  Sell it at cost.  Sell it for a profit.

And then go back to Ben and Jerry.  And then explain to them why it's important and how to market it to the innovators and early adopters.  And then ask them to take some risk.

You have an idea, PETA.  If you're passionate about it, don't dump it off on other people and whine when they don't love it as much as you do.  Go make it happen yourselves.  And forget core competency.  Who cares if you produce media, not ice cream.  If you think this ice cream helps achieve the goals your organization was formed to achieve, then make the ice cream.

Note: As a totally irrelevant aside, the most adventurous dairy product I've ever consumed is mare's milk.  Fermented mare's milk.  In Mongolia.  And it was disgusting.  Disgusting in no small part because of the flies and other surprises that floated to the surface after every sip.

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I woke up thinking about elephants today.

And now I'm thinking that I hope someone someday goes to Washington DC with a camera and a notepad and asks every elected official with a major party affiliation what he or she has learned from the donkey or the elephant.

I'm sure the right journalist could turn those conversations into something both telling and hilarious.  And I bet it'd be good for the politicians, too.  Good to get them to do a little unexpected thinking.

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Joe de Grazia, my dad, makes his internet debut...



And, Paul Hughes, since I know you're reading this, I mean it 100% lovingly when I call you a mad raver.

Note the Grateful Dead logo on the cabinet between our heads.  Parker drew that baby when he was like 11.  I love it.  We feature Led Zeppelin and Phish art in this kitchen too.

And note Pops's last comment about thinning our own herds.  Yikes.  He's not really that crazy.  Just a rookie video blogger looking to make a name for himself.

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I think they've built a better mousetrap.  And I think cheese, the old school bait, the one they use in cartoons, does slightly more efficient work than peanut better.



8 traps set. 

4 cheese.  4 peanut butter.

4 old school style.  4 newfangled.  Peanut butter and cheese evenly distributed between types.

3 caught mice. 1 old school with cheese.  1 newfangled with cheese.  1 newfangled with peanut butter.

2 had their bait taken without snapping.  1 old school with peanut butter.  1 newfangled with peanut butter.

1 snapped but caught nothing.  An old school trap with cheese.

2 went untouched. 1 old school with peanut butter.  1 newfangled with cheese.  They were clearly placed on the wrong shelf and will relocate tonight.

I should have graphed or tabled that.  But that might have been a little overkill for a mouse catching experiment.  Oh well.  Maybe next time.

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Heard this song on the radio yesterday.  It hooked me on first listen, which is impressive, especially for the radio.

It was WXPN, however, the station that introduced me to Wilco.

The Rabbit, the Bat, and the Reindeer, is track 5 on Fate.  It's also an enjoyably obscure and animal-related three part title, which is extra special exciting.

Click here to download:

05 The Rabbit, the Bat, and the Reindeer.mp3 (4925 KB)

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The dog food around here lives in a can.  A sort of miniature garbage can looking thing.  It's probably made of aluminum, but it has that saltstained look of galvanized steel.

Anyway, when I went to feed the dogs this morning, there was mouse in the can.  Just hanging out, looking up at me.  Fat, happy, and wondering what to do now that a huge, funny looking, non-mouse was looking down at him.

I figured Beans the kitten might be interested, so I caught the mouse in a ziplock bag. 

Beans was standing at the door and meowed when I walked up.  I opened the bag for him.  He looked in, sniffed, looked back at me, meowed again, and turned toward the door again.

I let him out and followed him with the bagged mouse.

He peed.

And then he came over to me, rubbed on my leg, had another half-curious sniff at the bag, took off full speed up a tree, leapt* down, charged at me, feigned an attack, and then galloped off into the bushes, daring me to chase.

Not in the mood for mice, apparently.

I let the mouse out of the bag and, went inside, and told this story to the dogs.

Angus the little black dog yawned and went back to sleep.  Rollie the big yellow dog asked if it'd be ok if he went outside and wrestled with Beans a little bit.

I opened the door.

*Note: Leapt isn't a word?  It's leaped?  Really?  Weird.

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