The Carrot/Prehistoric Invertebrate

 

I have long thought that whoever came up with those bags of peeled, cut baby carrots was a genius—he basically turned carrots into potato chips.

Most of the carrots look pretty much the same, but recently I found one that looks like something from the Burgess Shale.  (That’s probably because of the weird strands at one end that resemble antennae, or mouthparts, or something.)

Random Halloween Observations

Halloween is here again, when the darkness and chill of the evening lead me to expect that I’ll be attacked by werewolves, or something.  Ever year Halloween inspires me to blogging.  (You can click on the Halloween tag and read all my old Halloween entries.  In fact, you probably should do that, and give up on whatever else you were planning to do.)  But this year, all that I have is a few random observations.  

*For a few years I blogged about the anatomical errors in decorative plastic Halloween skeletons.  That topic is now exhausted, but I did see a dachshund skeleton that brings that absurdity of the general dog skeleton design to new levels. 

*I noticed that supermarkets were displaying candy for Halloween back in August.  I assume that the plan is that people will buy their Halloween candy in August, then lose control and eat it before Halloween, and then have to buy more.  (And perhaps the cycle will be repeated several times.)

*One of the most remarkable features of Halloween in recent years has been the proliferation of various yard decorations, the skeletons, ghosts, spiders, spider webs, etc.  Every year the decorations get bigger and crazier and more abundant.  I have to think that such displays are only possible because children are no longer free-range. I imagine that back in the Eighties, when at least some kids were allowed out on Halloween night unsupervised, the older, “cooler” kids would have absolutely trashed any ghosts or skeletons in someone’s front yard. 

 

Plague Year Hoarding

I have some observations about the current coronavirus pandemic on a scientific level, but as I am neither virologist nor epidemiologist, I should probably keep quiet.  

But I do feel that I can address a related phenomenon, the empty or nearly empty supermarket shelves that I noted in my last post.  

The empty shelves are generally attributed to hoarding; it is my theory that the hoarding is largely governed by a positive feedback relationship.  The hoarding begins with those who think that the pandemic will lead to complete societal collapse, at which point food and other consumer goods will be completely unavailable, and those with the somewhat less extreme belief that the pandemic will necessitate social isolation strict enough that people will be unable to go out to purchase consumer goods. 

This first wave of hoarders empties out various sections of the store, which creates an illusion of scarcity—the impression that there are long-term shortages.  More people then decided to hoard when they get the opportunity in order to secure themselves against these perceived shortages.  Supermarket shelves are again cleared out, which perpetuates the illusion of scarcity, prompting even more people to hoard. 

The population is, of course, finite, and the capacity to acquire and store goods is also finite, so even if everyone is eventually moved to hoard, the hoarding urge should at some point be sated.  Are we reaching that point?  Paper products are the category hardest hit by hoarding, and on my last supermarket visit there were some paper items in the paper aisle—no paper towels or toilet paper, but a few packages of tissues and paper napkins.  Perhaps the end is in sight.

Anyway, that’s my theory.  As theories go, well, it’s a theory.  And I like being able to use the phrases “positive feedback relationship” and “perpetuates the illusion of scarcity”.

The Local Noodle Restaurant

Tonight I happened to walk by the local noodle restaurant.  It was filled with teenagers.  When I was that age, my peers didn’t go to noodle restaurants.  When I was that age, though, I don’t think that noodle restaurants existed.  I imagine that for the teen demographic a noodle restaurant fulfills the two major requirements, which are that it is cheap, and that it gives them an opportunity to get away from their parents.

Whenever I see a group of young people, I can’t help thinking that I’m still one of them, or at least not far enough away from that time that I couldn’t fit in with them.  I want to approach and address them thus: “Greetings, teenagers!  I am one of you!  I belong among you!  Guns N’ Roses rocks!!  I can’t wait to watch Dana Carvey and Mike Myers on Saturday Night Live tonight!!  I have a computer that I use for word processing and video games, because those are the only possible uses for a personal computer!!  My phone is hooked into a wall!!!”

And then I come to my senses and remember that I am well over 800 years old.  Now I’m just left sitting here, wondering what happened to all that time.  And I guess that everyone is left just sitting here, wondering what happened to all that time, unless you’re one of the teenagers sitting in the noodle restaurant eating noodles.  

In Honor of Pi Day: Deriving Pi from a Pie

Yesterday was Pi Day (and I intended to write this last night, but overslept in my evening nap), the day on which the abbreviation for the date (3/14) consists of the first three digits of pi (3.14).  And yesterday was a very special Pi Day, on which the abbreviation for the date including the year (3/14/15) consisted of the first five digits of pi (3.1415).

Some people like to incorporate pie (the pastry) into the celebration of Pi Day.  I think that if you include pie in your Pi Day, before you eat the pie, you should do the following:

1. Get a tape measure, and measure the circumference of the pie. 

2. Measure the diameter of the pie. 

3. Divide the circumference by the diameter.  

Thus you will have derived pi from a pie.  

(I imagine that I am not the first person to think of deriving pi from a pie, but it makes me feel clever, so I am putting the idea on my blog.)

I tried this exercise myself to see how well it works.  I didn't have a pie, but I measured a roughly pie-sized circular plate.  I got 3.11, which is within about 1% of the correct value.  

Pumpkin-Spiced Latte

The Halloween season is here again, and this year it is being marked with endless humorous references in the popular culture to pumpkin-spiced latte.  I can't get in on this trend, because I don't drink coffee, and indeed it confuses me, with all its endless variants with names like latte, java, espresso, cappuccino, and frappuccino.  (Some of those things might not actually be coffee.  Some might not even be real. I don't know.)

The only time that I have ever been tempted to drink coffee was many years ago when I was walking by a Starbucks and saw a sign in the window saying that they were serving, for a limited time only, "Komodo Dragon Blend".  I am a huge fan of the Komodo Dragon, and for an instant I thought that I should order some Komodo Dragon Blend to find out how it was different from other coffee.  But then I remembered that I never drink coffee, and thus would have no idea how Komodo Dragon Blend compared to anything else.

Now I have told a non-entertaining story that is not relevant to the topic at hand, whatever that might be. But I felt that I should write something.  

The Twinkie Is Dead

The Twinkie is dead.  The Hostess corporation, with manufactured the Twinkie, has gone bankrupt due to a labor dispute.  I used to enjoy the occasional Twinkie in my youth,  but I probably haven't eaten one in twenty years. The Twinkie likely isn't truly dead, though.  Some other company may well acquire the rights to produce them, possibly a company in Mexico, where sugar is cheaper than in the United States, where tariffs keep the price artificially high.  

There are links for all this information, but I don't feel like going to the trouble of adding them.  Well, okay, there aren't any links about the fact that I haven't eaten a Twinkie in twenty years.  

But what is really important is that I tried to draw a Twinkie on my computer.  

I did not include a picture of a slug in this post because combining slugs and foodstuffs would be considered unsavory.