Time Magazine Has Lost All Credibility

I have a love/hate relationship with top ten lists. Some people actually put some thought into theirs and can express what they feel are their top favorite albums of the year. Others just throw together every album they can think of and don't really have to pick and choose. While others, just seem to compile a list of many different genres of music just to build "Street Cred."

A good example of this is seen with Time Magazine's Top Ten Albums of the Year. I was initially drawn to it because it has Mastodon's Crack the Skye on it, which happens to be one of my favorite albums of the year. Then I made the mistake of looking at their other selections. While I don't want to go into every horrible decision they made, I will highlight one. They gave Brad Paisley the best album of the year. Aside from the fact that I despise nearly everything on CMT, Time Magazine didn't really have a good reason as to why is was their favorite album. This was part of what they said about it,

"The real risk-taking emerges on his songs about women, which, as on the brilliant "The Pants," manage to be funny, sexy and sensitive: "In the top drawer of her dresser there's some panties/ Go try on that purple pair with the lacy frill/ With your big old thighs I bet you can't get in 'em/ With that attitude of yours, hell, I bet you never will."

The great thing is that I don't have to make a joke, since it is not funny. It is sad.

Semantics

I am starting to realize that when you look at blogs, the person who uses the biggest words usually have no idea what they are talking about. Some people can utilize these words to make what they say clearer and more concise. Yet, most people just toss them around hoping that someone will get lost in what they say and click out of that window thinking, "Damn that guy is smart."

I see this a lot in christian blogs. Don't get me wrong, I am pumped that they are having a rousing conversation. Yet, if they really want to turn people onto God, they should be able to talk about it in layman's terms. I could be wrong, but most of the conversations I have eve's dropped on that include the common athiest, terms such as "Kalam Cosmological argument" and "Epiphenomenonalism." (Yes I just looked these words up)

Isn't it crazy. It's just so painfully axiomatic

Album Review: The Mars Volta - Octahedron

Along with now doing book reviews, I am going to be reviewing all types of media. Being human, I presuppose that my interests are also of interest to all of you. Along with this presupposition (I’m so smart), I believe that my interests have not only set a bar in excellence that the rest of the world should be striving to achieve, but I believe that everyone would be completely lost without my guidance. As much as I am mocking this thought, I still believe it. Silly as it may seem, you all believe it too. But enough of that. Sit back and let me exercise this savior complex of mine.

This will be the first compact disc review I have ever done for this blog. (If you are reading this blog in the future, a compact disc was something that was awesome. It wasn’t a series of 1’s and 0’s that now float solely through your I-Tunes or MP3Toilet.com or whatever Internet application now services your musical needs. It was a series of 1’s and 0’s compiled on a round piece of plastic that I could carry around and show off to my friends, take on a trip, or listen to in my car. I didn’t have to consult my failing PC everytime I wanted to listen to Fountains of Wayne, I just grabbed it out of my leather-bound case. I think you get the point. It was amazing. Enjoy your new Timbaland single because I assume Cds are obsolete now too. Man the future sucks already.)

This review will be a part of a series I call “Under the Radar.” These aren’t brand spanking new albums. (By the way, Brand “Spanking” New? Why Spanking? I hate tradition.) These are albums that may have been out for a while. Yet, I believe they need revisiting because they have not gotten the credit they deserve and in a way have flown under the radar.

Tonight’s Album: The Mars Volta – Octahedron

This album was a very unexpected turn for the Mars Volta. After their critically acclaimed effort “Deloused in the Comatorium,” they seemed to keep adding new members. While I do know that from the very onset they utilized other musicians, for example Flea from the currently unimaginative Red Hot Chili Peppers, played bass on Deloused. Yet, after that album dropped I kept on hearing about them acquiring new members. Most notably former At The Drive In band mate Paul Hinojos dropped his role in the band Sparta to join the onslaught of new musicians. While they managed to hold it together for their second release “Frances the Mute”, this rise in numbers coupled with the fact that they began to favor noise over melody made for the half-hearted attempt that was their third album, “Amputecture” While tracks such as “Viscera Eyes” has it’s moments, you can actually hear the musicians put their heads up their own arses throughout most of the album. Omar Rodriguez-Lopez didn’t even play guitar on it. John Frusciante of the aforementioned currently unimaginative Red Hot Chili Peppers played guitar on the album. While I hope it was fun for the band, it certainly wasn’t incredibly pleasing to their audience. Needless to say, the band was losing fans as they continued to welcome in new band members. This juggernaut of a sloppily put together supergroup was losing its focus.

It seemed my worst fears continued to materialize as I received the news that drummer Jon Theodore left. I loved “Deloused in the Comatorium” and I know a big reason for that was his presence on the album. While new drummer Thomas Pridgen's presence on their 4th album “Bedlam in Goliath” makes me feel like his free time is filled primarily with doing speed and watching Neil Pert solos, it was a solid album. It was cohesive, it made sense, and it was done all while reminding listeners why we loved The Mars Volta in the first place.

Which now brings me to their latest effort Octahedron. This album finds The Mars Volta’s sound very stripped down. Not only did they fire some of the band, including Hinojos which I am not too happy about, they wrote what Rodriguez-Lopez calls their “acoustic album.” While this album does feature more acoustic guitar than their previous releases, this is by no means an “acoustic” album. It is a more relaxed sound, but the songs are still big. They feel more intentional and contained rather than improvisational and disconnected. While they still have familiar staples such as bizarre song titles likes, “Halo of Nembutals”, this is a new direction for that band that I feel is exactly what they needed. While I could try to sit down and describe every fill and riff contained within Octahedron, I feel like it wouldn’t come across well and frankly that sounds like too much work for me.

I do not know why this album was not pushed by Universal as much as their previous releases, but I feel like this is one of the best albums in the Mars Volta’s canon. Years after the disintegration of At The Drive In and 4 albums deep into their new project, Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez still continue to make great music. While they may lose their way here and there, Octahedron shows that they are still one of the more important bands rock music has right now.

Book Review: I Drink For A Reason

Welcome to the next installment of Reid reviews books.

While this has not been formally announced, I will be using this blog to also review books that I have been reading. While I do enjoy movies and music, I have never felt really comfortable reviewing them. I don't always catch on to the Freudian undertones that are so pervasive in movies such as X-Men 3: The Last Stand. I didn't really catch on to the post 9/11 themes prevalent in The Scorpion King. However, I do feel like I can understand books well enough to guide the masses. (By masses I mean the 2 followers who currently subscribe to my blog) I am not applying for a job at the New Yorker anytime soon, but I am a fairly consistent reader and feel I can come up with a unique take on a book. If I fail to do so, I will read other reviews of the book and blatantly rip off their ideas and pass them off as my very own. (I'm desperate for respect) In my reviews, I will also use one big word that shouldn't be used. I will use this to A:) Sound very intelligent and B:) See A

Tonight's review is of David Cross' I Drink For A Reason:

My initial thought when gazing at the cover of this book was "Yipee! I love David Cross. His book will bring me enjoyment on many different occasions." (Keep in mind I am paraphrasing and taking many liberties with my memories) I love David Cross' comedy specials and his character on Arrested Development was amazing, so how could I go wrong? Simple. Him not writing a very good book.

Once in a while Cross' stand up comedy relies on his sardonic observations on life. He usually does a pretty good job of riding the fine line between bitter commentary and sheer comedic genius. Yet, it seems as though on this writing venture he drank a bottle of Jamison Irish Whiskey, threw caution to the wind, wrote this book containing nothing but his hatred for all aspects of life, and mostly likely concluded the night by getting into an argument with his sprinkler system.

This is not a very flattering side of David. He does seem to be a very intelligent man and I will still call myself a fan of his, but he still is an entertainer. If this was a book by Dr. Sanjay Gupta, I would probably give him a pass because his job isn't to make us laugh. (Even though his newest book Cheating Death has been known to make people snicker once and a while) Yet, David is a comedian and I rarely even smiled during this book. Critics of my blog, if I ever have any, will say that David's style of humor is very deadpan. I appreciate that when there is a payoff. This book was so deadpan that is never came to life for me. (Does the Pulitzer Committee award excellence in blogging?)

If you are a person who is parsimonious (look it up), then don't waste your time on this book. Even if you are loaded, don't spend time on this book. If you're an anthropology major who hates everything anyway, you'll love it.

I give this book 1 dead horse out of 4.

Book Review: She's Come Undone

I am a guy who likes to see what all the fuss is about. When the Da Vinci code was finally allowing the CEO of Random House to fulfill his lifelong dream of wiping his bottom with 100 dollar bills, part of that hundred was mine. When the Kite Runner was making middle aged housewives finally care about children from other countries, I shared their concern. When Stephanie Meyers was finally about to pull herself out of the Utah soccer mom slums with teenage vampire porn quadrilogy Twilight, I was rooting (silently) for Bella. Needless to say, when a book is creating a lot of buzz, I will read it. Lots of heartache comes with this because a lot of these books turn out to be pretty bad. Kite Runner was fairly disappointing, the Da Vinci code was exciting yet forgettable, and Twilight could/may have been ghostwritten by a fourth grader. People get bored, something becomes hip, they (we) ride the train for a bit, then inevitably get off as soon as it's done. However, I do believe Wally Lamb's She's Come Undone lived up to most of the hype surrounding it.

She's Come Undone chronicles the life of Dolores Price. Dolores, isn't the most likable protagonist. In fact, at times she is repulsive. Mean, impulsive, and selfish are not the qualities that make up a very likable main character, but they are qualities every reader can empathize with. While I cannot imagine anyone going through all of the turmoil that Dolores endures in the novel, I think everyone can see a little bit of themselves in her.

While in the beginning I wondered if Wally Lamb was only attempting to write the most depressing novel ever, the payoff is the third act. Without giving away anything, Lamb brings the novel to an end not afraid to let the reader wonder. There are rarely neat and tidy resolutions in life, tragedy doesn't adhere to rhyme or reason, and not everything can be understood. Lamb leaves the character as she is. If I am going to be honest, since finishing the book I have thought about "Dolores Price" on numerous occasions and what she may be doing at that very moment.

Overall, Lamb's literary debut is a well written and moving piece.

I give this book 3 dead horses out of 4

The Nature of Reading.

A man ought to read just as inclination leads him,
for what he reads as a task will do him little good.
~ Samuel Johnson ~

Books like friends, should be few and well-chosen.
~ Joineriana ~


These are some quotes that sum up some of the various feelings regarding reading. I was having a long conversation with one of my close friends last night and we had a little argument on the nature of reading.

My friend's view of reading seems to line up with the quote of Joineriana. That one should only read something that pushes the mind forward. For him, this means "classic" texts that have been deemed classic by magazine publications, the modern library, or are mandatory in college or high school. Classic novels coupled with philosophical or theological texts that push your brain should be a reader's main focus.

While I understand and respect that point of view, I tend to agree more with the Johnson quote above. I believe that reading the "classics" and other respected texts are very important. I also believe that you should read whatever makes you happy. While you should still be objective towards everything you set before your eyes, don't overlook a book just because it is new or by someone that you have never heard of. Classic writers are amazing, I understand now how people have fallen in love with the works of Orwell, Dostoyevsky, Plath, and Vonnegut, because I have fallen in love with them too. Yet, contemporary writers such as Marquez, Eugenides, McCarthy, Walls have also made me fall in love with them too. They have a voice too and while they haven't been along to be seen as classic, I still think you should just read what makes you happy.

If it becomes a task in order to become "enlightened" with every page, it will become akin to homework. Reading should be special, private, and above all else, a joy.

The Nature of Reading.

First Couple Chapters & Side Rant

While I am only two chapters into She's Come Undone, I really enjoy it. It reads like a memoir and reminds me a lot of Jeanette Walls' The Glass Castle. One thing that has caught my attention so far is just how "human" Dolores is. In the first couple of chapters she is around the age of 10 when her father leaves her and her mother to go live with another woman. Her mother, crippled by these events and a miscarriage that preceded, spirals out of control. When looking to her daughter Dolores for comfort, Dolores doesn't give her "ma" the slightest bit of solace.
Maybe other readers may see Dolores as just flat out being a mean girl. It just seems to me a very human reaction. Dolores is confused. She doesn't know why her father just up and left. He didn't really give any reason as to why he was leaving. One day he was just gone. Dolores and her father seemed to get along very well so I don't feel as though she would would put the blame on herself. So who is the only other person that could have been responsible?
For me, I like that the author doesn't have to spell that out for us. That he doesn't say, "Dolores felt this" and "Ma felt this." He just gives us a snapshot into these peoples lives and lets us deal with the rest.

Anyone agree? or am I totally off the mark?

Side Rant: Have you ever been on a public bus? I ride them several times a week to go to school and I have noticed that most people on there have a severe staring problem. I honestly cannot figure out what they are staring at sometimes. I know for a fact that none of these people (mostly men) are secret agents that are planted on public transit systems in an attempt to thwart terrorism because they are in no way discreet. If there is something slightly out of the norm on the bus, for example a low cut shirt, he will stare it up and down until everyone around around him has become reasonably uncomfortable. I could understand if it was an old man who only had a couple of days left on this earth and feels like he has nothing left to lose, but there seems to be no fixed demographic for these starers. Something about the bus just makes them resist the urge to blink and gives them the desire to let everyone know that their eyes are fixed on something peculiar.

Literary Conquests

I cannot seem to put my finger on it, but I'm starting to believe that I have literary A.D.D. While I may be in school currently and already have way too much to read, I always have to add something else to that list. It also can never seem to be fun books that you can just give a quick glance at night and don't feel like your missing out if you set it down on the night-stand.
I have realized that reading is no longer a fun thing to do or a enjoyable hobby. It is cathartic. It has to be something that emotionally purges me. Makes me question everything that I am doing in my life while I am simultaneously praising and despising life.
I believe that I have always been drawn to Russian literature. At the risk of sounding like a snob by merely mentioning the author's name, I do have to say that I truly love Dostoevsky. Grand in scope, his books contain exhaustive detail that actually makes me feel as though I am truly living the character's life. While this is a wonderful thing to experience at times, his characters are positively human. They are selfish, beautiful, and at times awful to be with.
I don't know what draws me to these people, but I love wallowing in their misery. As the reader goes through every stage of these character's lives, it is hard to part with them when you reach the final page of the book that is absent of ink.

More on Russian lit later, I am merely writing this piece because I have not written in a while. At first, I intended this blog to be a place of vanity that would allow me to show off my offhanded wit. However, this well has run dry. Or it has been poisoned. Either way, there is nothing to drink.

As I thought about my literary endeavors and the merciless need to purge my soul with books, I wanted to know if any of you out there share the same desire.

While meager amounts of vanity remain, I want to open this blog up to readers and writers alike. I will be writing about what I am reading at the moment and encourage people to comment on whether they themselves had read the book and what they got from it. Whether it be philosophical rants or summaries of your favorite parts, I want to share the love of books. I will also give enough advance to those who might want to join in reading the book with me.

I have read many different books. While the previous sentence may be interpreted as an attempt to show how amazing I am, it was merely meant to say that on this blog we will be reading a wide variety of books. If you have any recommendations, please please please speak up.

So here it goes...the first book!

Wally Lamb's She's Come Undone

I have heard nothing but amazing things about Wally Lamb and so I just decided to go to Santa Cruz book store and pick up the first one that caught my eye.

If anyone wants to join in, I am just starting this now. Like Lamb says in the first chapter of this book, television is sharp and clear but unreliable.

Today is the Day

Today is the first day of school.

The sad thing is that I am 23 years of age.

This is like....the fifth time I have started school at a new school. This may be the last time. Yet, if I decide to get my PHD then I will be much older and probably won't get the jitters. I'll probably be too busy disciplining my kids and wondering how the heck I got so old rather than dealing with the "butterflies in my tummy."

I don't really know why I am so scared. There seems to be an idea in my head that whenever I get to a new school, there is some serious hazing to be done. I am sitting in the middle of a dark room, wearing only socks, my violent tears soaking through my polyester blindfold, while every one of the faculty verbally tears me apart. Apparently someone has given them a list of every one of my perceived weaknesses cause they nail every bullet-point. They start with my hair and work their way down, spending significant time on my brain and all of the little nuances locked inside of it. Eventually, the clean up the shop by ridiculing my overly wide feet.

This never happens, but I get worked up anyway.

It will probably actually happen today. That is why I am worked up.

Cheers

I just have to say that I don't like it when people say "Cheers" when they mean "thank you."

If your at a bar with a couple of people from England and Manchester United just scores, then look at your friends, hit your overflowing pints of Michelob Ultra together and exclaim "CHEERS!"

But if your at a coffee shop, let's say my coffee shop, and I give you a drink. Don't say cheers. The first reason being that when you say "thank you," it is usually followed up by a customary "your welcome." When you utter the words "cheers" there is no follow up, unless you count the dead silence as a response. Which I wouldn't cause that is such an agonizing four seconds. I am not going to say, "Cheers to you too." I am also not going bring myself down to your level by responding with the same idiotic nonsense.

I get it. Don't think I don't. Your striving to be original. It's cute. You are rebelling against social norms and you think a coffee shop is going to be the best place to exercise your new found freedom...but don't. There are already to many maladies in the realm of human interaction. We don't need this filth.

If the Tv show Cheers was about Rita Pearlman going around trying to make herself seem hip then maybe you would have an excuse, but it wasn't, and you don't

DSM

This rant is sponsored by Melody Petersen's book, Our Daily Meds.

When I first learned about the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), I was very impressed. I thought to myself that it was pretty impressive that a group of people got together and compiled a list of mental disorders. It seemed that only good could come of this since in order to treat a disease, you must first diagnose it. However, I am starting to believe that a book like the DSM could be the downfall of our society.

Before you say, "Reid...You're being dramatic."
I would like to say to you, "Don't worry, I am being dramatic."

First of all, I am a grandiose person. If I had a good day and somebody were to ask how my day was, I would most likely respond that it was one of the best days I have ever had. Conversely, if someone were to ask how my day was and it had not been a very good day, the moment would turn sour really fast. Religious or not, the person would probably ask to pray for me due to their concern that death was imminent for me.

For the layman, when I am up I am UP, when I am down I am DOWN.

No I do not think the DSM will actually be the downfall of our society. Jonas Brothers fanaticism is more likely to be a harbinger of Armageddon, but that is so depressing that I don't even want to attempt to write about it.

I do think that its scary that in 1952 there was only 106 mental illnesses listed in the DSM. By 1994, the list had grown to 357 mental disorders. (Petersen,99)

While I do believe that the growth in the list of illnesses is due to our advances in medical knowledge, but some of these have to be put in there just to scare people, or because people are bored, or because people want to find a disease that wins a spot in the coveted DSM. I would do it....I still might.

Not all of you are going to like this news because you want to believe that if something is in a medical book, then it is probably in there for a good reason. However, mental illnesses are not like diseases that infect the blood or other things in the body that can be detected. They are a set of character traits, or flaws to some people. Some doctors actually have boasted that they can tell if a person is depressed by only asking them two questions. They see this as a positive thing that enables the physician to prescribe their patients anti-depressants right away. What are these two questions? I wish I could figure it out.

I imagine they are: Are you depressed? and Did you know you look horribly depressed?

There is no way you can decide if someone needs a chemical aid with a mere two questions.

If you can surmise that someone is depressed based on two questions then you can probably guess that someone has other mental illnesses based on this meager criteria.

Don't believe me? A while ago a company tried to tell people that a large portion of the community suffered from a mental illness called "compulsive shopping disorder." While I do believe that a lot of us are compulsive shoppers, it isn't something that you can treat with pills. They tried though. The pill was called Celexa. It didn't get popular because of the backlash it created when it was featured on shows like Good Morning American. While it is good that this drug's future was quelled after its first television appearance, I wonder how many drugs have flown under the radar for illnesses that were created just so we could buy more pills.

Maybe it is just my machismo that doesn't let me succumb to snacking on Zoloft, but I hard time buying into that people need pills for every little personality quirk they might have. I am starting to believe Chris Rock when he said that some people are just "crazy." Plain and simply crazy.

I am sorry for those who read this and who are currently "suffering" from one of these disorders. Unless it is Restless Leg Syndrome, then I am not sorry. That is just called having too much espresso before bed time.

Contact

Just so you know this post isn't all original material, it is inspired by a segment in A.J Jacobs book, "A Year of Living Biblically." So know that. Just know that.

In the book he is talking about a crazy person that lives in his apartment building. Although he likes her very much, she claims to get creeped out by him because of his eye contact. Jacobs had previously been self-diagnosed as someone who doesn't take the customary breaks from long periods of eye contact that happens during conversation, but it still seemed to hurt his feelings.

This moment during my reading is just like those moments one has while listening to stand up comedy. Where a comedian pokes fun at the mundane moments in life that normally do not require any brain waves and makes you say to your neighbor, "That is so true!"

I like these moments.

One of the things that has always stuck with me from my one visit to the "career center" at my local high school was that you should always look people in the eye during a conversation, especially a potential employer.

Sidenote: I imagine the reason I rarely ever visited the "career center" when I was younger was because it felt awkward to receive career advice from a person whom most likely never imagined as a child that one day they would be toiling to advise people what career to choose at the time in their life where they could not care less.

Anyway, this one visit certainly seared into my brain that when engaged in conversation, look the person in the eye.

However, they did not teach the customary breaks that happen during these conversations. I, like most people, seemed to have developed this skill on my own.

What if you did not pick up on this later in life? Or what if you just are very disciplined and do what you were told at an early age and always maintain eye contact no matter how daunting the situation may seem?

If you are one of these unadulterated eye contacters, then I am sorry for thinking that you are a serial killer. You just are doing what you were told.

I know this post is all over the place but I am on a time crunch and lets be honest, the topic isn't enthralling enough to required meticulous revision.

Just think about it and next time your in a conversation, don't break away. We can fight this together.

Comfort Betrays

I like foods that are good. I know that seems simple enough but it really isn't. Although "Good" can be defined in myriad different ways, it is sad just how many foods out there aren't "good." I believe that good foods are ones that are good through and through. Good presentation, good taste, good nutrients. If one of the elements is missing in the culinary trinity, then I don't believe that it could be called a "good food." If a waiter brings you something that looks awful but tastes delicious, you most likely exclaim, "This actually tastes pretty good for how bad it looks!."

I know your thinking to yourself, "Reid....Reid.....Reid....Nachos happen to be very delicious and when I eat them I think,'boy these are good!.'" While it may appear that you have me cornered you do not at all. One because this is my blog and I can simply delete any seditious comments. But more importantly while you may think the nachos taste good, you know in the back of your head that you feel guilty for indulging in deep fried Tostitos swimming in synthetic "cheese." You never go home from gorging yourself on nachos truly believing in your heart that you made nothing but good decisions throughout the day. Therefore, in my logic, it is not a food that is good through and through.

Two foods for me fit this bill. Sandwiches and Burritos

Yes the sandwich. I am not talking about Paninis stuffed with oozing gobs of mozzarella. I am talking about the good old sandwich. Meat, Bread, and vegetables, together in an ensemble of delight and stuffed in your face.

Burritos. This one is a slippery slope because if one lacks discipline, a visit to Taqueria Vallarta may turn out to be more dangerous than drinking a 8 ounce glass of used mop water, with Pine-sol. If once just has the tortilla and simply fills it with beans and rice (protein power combo), and a meager portion of meat, than your body will be thrilled.

On top of the great taste of these two items and nutritional value, they are very easy on the eyes. I am salivating just thinking of these two treats and I don't think it is going to up the resale of my Powerbook if there is severe water damage.

Added Bonus Alert! They both fit in your hand. No fork included, no two ways to go about it. They go from your hand to your mouth. Have you ever seen someone eat a burrito with a fork? I know they are trying to be polite but it ends up just being really sad. I pray for those people, whatever is causing them to partake in this erratic behavior.

Anyway, if you can think of any other food that fits this bill let me know. If not, leave me comments to delete.

And We're Back

I have been gone. I have been gone in Japan. I have been gone and missing my blog. I didn't want to write while I was in Japan. The reason being that during the day I don't think I would do certain things if I knew that I was going to have to write about them later. I know this sounds bizarre ,but, about 75 percent of the things I do during a single day involve not brain activity whatsoever. For example, I am going to let the cat out of the bag here on this one, but during one night in Tokyo we were having sushi. As I was about so slide the delicious fish down my gullet I noticed a giant green ball of wasabi out of the corner of my eye. Without a single movement of my brain, I picked up the glowing ball with my chopsticks and threw it into my mouth. Exit brain thought, enter chaos. It didn't make sense and it shouldn't. As an "adult" now, I shouldn't be shoving balls of wasabi in my mouth just cause I saw it. Yet, I don't regret it personally. I am however, having to defend myself here and that is not something I wanted to do on a daily basis. So I just decided to forgo writing.

I am back now, so here I go.

In the New Yorker, Elizabeth Kolbert attempted to answer why we are so fat?

We know that the simple answer is that we eat too much and don't exercise. We desire quantity and nix quality. Yet, Liz writes that in the old days people had smaller brains and therefore, required less food to fuel those brains. We as a people nowadays have larger brains and now need to eat more to fuel our brains.

She writes: "Brains are calorically demanding organs. Our distant ancestors had small ones. Australopithecus afarensis, for example, who lived some three million years ago, had a cranial capacity of about four hundred cubic centimetres, which is roughly the same as a chimpanzee’s. Modern humans have a cranial capacity of about thirteen hundred cubic centimetres."

My problem with Liz's hypothesis is this. If we have bigger brains to fuel now, shouldn't we be seeing smarter people? Cause I am just seeing the bigger bodies, yet it seems we are leaking common sense. I mean have you seen the hills? Seriously, Have you?

A Hard Lesson to Learn

Ever since I was a young child, a young lad, I was enrolled in school. There really never was a time that I can remember when I wasn't somehow attached to school. Summer vacations and other time off were just, "a break from school." My indentured servitude to the educational system meant that my whole schedule depended on whether I had school or not.
I remember specifically one day my mom woke me up and said that we were going to play "hooky" (Hook-Key) from school. At first I was bewildered. Not only was I trying to regroup myself after nearly 8 grueling hours of REM Sleep, but I was unfamiliar with what "hooky" was. I thought maybe this was a game that my mother used to play when she was younger. My mind leaped to thoughts of games such as kick the can or other Depression era "time fillers," which made the enthusiasm leave my body immediately. Yet, after more thought, I realized those thoughts didn't make sense chronologically since my mom would have to be near one hundred years old in order for her to be alive during the depression and I alas conceded to this so called "hooky."

It was a very pleasant day. We visited our local IN and Out Burger and spent time there for a couple of hours. After that, we went to the cinemas to lose our minds in some celluloid. I soon came to find out that "hooky" was just a day away from school. I really loved that my mom did that for me, but then I began to wonder what was happening at school without me. Due to the fact that I had always been in school and my life seemed to revolve around it like the earth to the sun, I was very concerned for my classmates. This coupled with a young, naive, and egocentric state of mind, meant that I couldn't conceive of what school was doing without me!

At first I just assumed that the teachers came to school and as they scanned through the role sheet, everything just stopped. Reid was not in attendance. Why go on? Disillusioned, they shuffled out the door and prayed that I would return safely the next day.

While I was flattered by the first thought, my mind began to jump to more terrifying scenarios. I imagined that because I was not at school people were freaking out to the point where the school just descended into chaos. Terrorists were claiming that they were going to execute people one by one if I did not return to hear my English teacher's preplanned lecture on, "Finnigan's Wake."

While you may think there is no way I would think this as a Jr. Higher, I assured you that thoughts like this did go through my mind. Although I didn't take them seriously enough to go looking up the number for the SWAT task force in the Yellow Pages, I did spend ample time thinking about this stuff. I attribute this to not only a wicked and subversive imagination, but the fact that the TNT station constantly showed the movie Delta Force starring Chuck Norris.

Needless to say, since I had never been away from school. I could not picture my life without it. Upon my return, I realized that everything that been ok. There was no serious threats on anyones lives and my teachers actually seemed ok with me not being there.

While this may seem like a good thing to a lot of people, I was kind of disheartened to learn that this world didn't revolve around me. As I am older now, I feel like I am learning that lesson over and over everyday. Although I am relieved that it doesn't revolve around me since I don't believe I would be a fantastic world leader, I do wish the nation would anxiously await my next blog post.

P.S - I do believe most of the world do in fact read my blog and eagerly await my every word.

To them I have to say:

Dear Obama, Bono, Carrot-Top, and others whom love my work:

Thank you for all your support over the year(s). You guys keep me going on. I appreciate your comments and understand your anonymity.

Love,
Reid

Loving Lit

I don't know if any of you have had the pleasure of seeing a man sporting a t-shirt that has the phrase, "so many books, so little time" on it. If you have you are probably aware how wonderful a moment such as this is. The sweatshirt is clearly the crux of the outfit while the rest of the ensemble is usually an afterthought. It is clear that as long as the sweatshirt is readable to the general public, then the person does not care about the rest.

If you happen to catch a man of this caliber walking around your neighborhood then you are aware of the impact he has on your life. If you are not a fan of books, then you most likely will scoff at the man's seemingly offbeat attire. For the record this is all speculation because I do not fall into that camp. I, and others who are a big fan of books, look at this man and understand his concern. We not only empathize, but we mentally applaud him for expressing himself. There is just so many books to read and so little time to read them.

I had a professor at UCSC whom wore that shirt constantly. I loved this man. He was not only an amazing history professor, but he had an uncanny resemblance to author David Sedaris.

Sedaris entered my life early in High School. My mother tried to get me to read a copy of his novel "Naked" many times. However, I didn't pick it up cause I was at the time too occupied with the Harry Potter series. Yet, it all worked out in the end because J.K Rowling took so long to come out with her fifth book that I forgot all that had happened in the series so far and thus decided to abandon Hogwarts altogether. After my bitter departure from that magical series, I drowned my sorrows in another book. Luckily, my rebound affair turned out to be Sedaris's, "Dress Your Family In Corduroy." I was just fascinated that someone could take the world around them and pick apart life's little idiosyncrasies in such a way where you cannot help but laugh. Although Sedaris was truly a gateway drug into my life of books, it wasn't until I picked up a copy of Kurt Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse Five" that I finally learned just how important literature is.

I had always heard the title "Slaughterhouse Five" growing up. Now that I think of it, it is funny that I had never picked up the book before being the horror movie fan that I am because nothing screams macabre more than, "Slaughterhouse Five." After I had read the first part of the book I knew that this guy had the same thing that Sedaris had, yet he had the gaul to deal with life. Don't get me wrong, I love stories of Sedaris's that deal with the unflushable turd that haunted him at a friend's dinner party, but using humor to explore the parts of life that normally scare us is absolutely brilliant. To me it seems there really is no other way to deal with the things that terrify us, because as Mr. Vonnegut said himself, "Humor is an almost physiological response to fear."

I could go on talking about this book all night. I could even talk about my "favorite parts" that really inspired me. Yet, the point of this blog was just to let you know how I was first introduced to one of my favorite authors in hopes to inspire you to pick up one of his novels.

I guess I could leave you with a couple of Vonnegut quotes.

"The feeling about a soldier is, when all is said and done, he wasn't really going to do very much with his life anyway. The example usually is: he wasn't going to compose Beethoven's Fifth."

"Who is more to be pitied, a writer bound and gagged by policemen or one living in perfect freedom who has nothing more to say?"

"Any reviewer who expresses rage and loathing for a novel is preposterous. He or she is like a person who has put on full armor and attacked a hot fudge sundae."

"Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward."

"People have to talk about something just to keep their voice boxes in working order so they'll have good voice boxes in case there's ever anything really meaningful to say."

Movie Reviews!

I recently attended the midnight showing of X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

This film is a true representation of how you can strip away anything good of a franchise and replace it with explosions just so you can make more money. I get it, fire is super cool. The cavemen totally dug it because you know....it helped them sustain life. It is clearly really special because we don't really rely on fire that much anymore to sustain life, yet we keep it around just so people can have a focal point during their political discussions at your dinner parties that you host every couple of weeks to impress your friends and prove to them that you and your wife are not reclusive. (I know it was a major run on sentence, but i'm proving a point.)

Fire is neat. It is impressive and it's kind of fun to splurge and buy the Dura-Flame log that creates different color flames. However, I feel it should be used sparingly in a motion picture. You know...to create drama.

An explosion is the pinnacle of action. Tension is created by the threat of something going to explode. That is how MacGyver existed as a television series. Every episode dealt with him attempting to prevent explosion and that was it. He knew that if the bomb blew, that would be it.

Yet, the director of this film, Gavin Hood, apparently had never watched MacGuyver. Which is really weird considering that he had previously acted in episodes of Stargate SG-1 which starred Macgyver himself, Richard Dean Anderson.

Anyway, Mr. Hood decided to just fill the Wolverine film with tons of poorly executed explosions and awful dialogue. There was no tension building. There was no, "Holy Heck! That bomb is going to go off anytime soon! Let's get out of here or we'll all die!"

It was just boom. Boom. Boom.

I know that superhero films require a suspension of belief when you enter the cinema, but it is truly unbelievable that the director could make a movie with so much explosions and so little heart.

But, they already have my money. So I guess I'll be seeing all of you guys next year at the midnight showing of "Big Explosions: The Movie"

The Red Scare Clothing Company

I think I want to start a new company. This company would be a clothing company that supports communism. Why? It just seems like a good idea. Also, I think mildly confused teenagers would wear it thinking that they are making a profound statement about themselves, when in reality the general public knows that they have no idea of the implications. Just look at the surplus of Che shirts purchased at your local Hot Topic. Trust me...there is a market for my shirts.

It would be called "The Red Scare Clothing Company." I think it has a nice ring to it.

Am I Communist? No.

If I were around, would I have been totally pumped by the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917? Not Particularly.

Do I wanna make a quick buck by selling eccentric T-Shirts to high schoolers whom are in the process of finding their "true" identity? Of Course.

I have some good shirt ideas also. Close your eyes and pretend these are printed on a big red Hanes Beefy-T.

"You've Got A Friend In Me. And I've Got a Friend in Senator Joe McCarthy."

"Berlin Would Be For Lovers, Had They Not Gotten Rid of that Wall!"

"Seriously, is there anything that Capitalism hasn't ruined? I mean General Motors has been driven (pun intended) into the ground! Let's go back to the only ideology that mattered. I mean seriously...Communism was pretty legit."

"Russia had it right!"

"I hate Ed Hardy! But heart the Chinese Red Army!"

I do know that this won't be an easy task and also know that some dangers may arise in the future. The one that looms over my head the most is what happens if another Iron Curtain descends over Europe. America will then find itself in another battle against communism. If this happens, I'm most likely going to be tried for Sedition. Which really sucks cause I bet people like that get no respect in prison. People who murder someone can strike fear into the other inmates. I don't think anyone will be scared of someone who is in prison for saying stuff that the government particularly agree with. Not to mention the countless times I have to explain to people in the big house what Sedition even means.

Maybe I shouldn't do this after all.

All Over The Place

My brother's wedding was last night. Weddings are absolutely beautiful. Everyone leaves their problems at the door and are there to celebrate two people dedicating their lives to one another. There is nothing like weddings, just like there is no place like airports. Do you know of a place where utter happiness and absolute despair co-exist in one place besides the airport?

Because of the wedding I am very happy for my brother. Yet, I find myself up late at night just being a big bag of mixed emotions.

Everywhere I look on the net there is something there to lead me into the next plane of thought.

If you wish to follow me:
Go to Dredg's myspace (myspace.com/dredg) and listen to their new song "I Don't Know" where they sing about how it is impossible to know truly what happens when you die. Since their is no way to understand what happens after you die, then you should just stop trying to find a real answer. Although I don't totally agree with it, it is interesting to think about should you choose to go down that path.

If you don't wish to do that. Then try to get some sleep. I know that I should but my brain won't shut off.

Orality

This morning. I had some of my wisdom teeth pulled. Naturally I was a little worried seeing as how I don't like surgery. Weird huh?

The night before the surgery I decided to use the internet to find out just how long my recovery time might be. At first, I thought this was a mistake since I had stumbled upon some horror stories about people's jaws breaking during surgery. After a brief panic and trying to think of ways to get around my death at the hands of someone who statistically might already be having thoughts of suicide, I began to find some internet bloggers whom began to assure me that everything was going to be fine.

What intially made me so paranoid I found out was that I was looking on the wrong websites. Starting out with sites like Web M.D, I was only being barraged with the opinions of people above the age of 30. You know, people who are typically seen as "Mature Adults." This group of people seemed to be afraid of everything. Not only had they heard stories about jaws being broken during surgery, but that the medicine prescribed to them was causing them to slip into fortnight long comas. (I have always wanted to use fortnight in a sentence so back off.)

Yet, while the mature adults were mainly concerned with just living through the teeth pulling ordeal, I soon found that the younger generation of bloggers brought me more joy than I could have ever imagined to find on the internet.

Most of the younger generation of bloggers were mainly concerened with whether they could go to a party that night. They are well aware that the doctors urge patients to get plenty of rest and take good care of their mouths. Yet, social suicide appears to be more daunting to them than a wee bit of "Dry Socket." Also why sit and home and watch Turner Classic Movies hopped up on Vicodine, when you can just take the pills with your alcohol and play a little game called, "I hope I wake up in the morning." Although I knew these kids were quite stupid, their mildly educated words gave me comfort throughout the night.

When the surgery came around, I was ready. I was mentally prepared and convinced that I would walk out of the office feeling simply fantastic. This new mindset was quite comforting to me and it carried me all the way until I got into the actual chair and was shown a video about the things that "may go wrong" during the surgery.
Now I am all for patients being informed about all the prodding that a doctor will be inflicting on their body, but I feel as though it should be somewhat sugar coated unless otherwise specified by the patient.

The surgeon could have told me soon he would given me a lollipop that once I finished the entire treat that my teeth would have magically disappeared painfree and I would have been thrilled. Although I know it was a blatant lie, I would have appreciated the comfort and been happy that he wasn't too far along in his dental depression to still find the happiness to make a few quips.

However, he chose to show me a video that informed me that I may never again experience things such as: taste, feeling in my lips, sinus comfort, the ability to stop bleeding, the joy that comes from a beating heart, and other things of that nature. This litany of pain again put me in a state of discomfort. Yet, I found out the reason why they show you that film before the surgery. The reason is this, it really doesn't matter what they show you before the surgery because once they get the drugs in you, your thoughts don't matter.

As soon as I was mainlined with the morphine or whatever sedative was given to me, my fears just melted away. The only thing I remember of the surgery was that there were a couple of pairs of hands in my mouth at one time. Apparently the sedative was strong because I could not have been more delighted with the taste of latex and having my mouth stretched to its limits.

Once I came to, the surgery was over. My mouth was full of gauze and I could not believe that the surgery had concluded. I no longer cared about the macabre details of my surgery, I just told myself that the magical lollipop had abraded my mouth till it was raw.

In the end, you can spend all of your life fretting about surgery, or you just can fix your mind on things such as drugs. I know that sentence probably doesn't fly with parents or any of the bloggers over 30 on Web M.D. But, as long as the anesthetics are strong, worrying won't do you any good. Let's just be thankful that when we don't walk into a doctor's office they don't just hand us a bottle of hard alcohol and say, "Let's see what we can do." Cause in those days there is a good chance that that sentence really meant, "You should have probably just ignored the pain because I am most likely going to kill you."

P.S. - I know this joke is probably extremely old, but why are they called wisdom teeth? Cause when a dentist says, "You got some wisdom teeth coming in." We're sitting in the chair thinking, "Good, it's about time." So it's naturally a shock when they want to take them out.
I say from an early age the dentist should call these teeth, "Evil Death Teeth." Cause then patients would probably be more eager to try to get them extracted. Consequently, dentists would get paid more since more people would be lining up to get their, "Evil Death Teeth" taken away. That would boost the economy and we'll be out of this recession in no time.

See, you may find most of my posts to be vain and self-indulgent, but at least you'll have something to talk about at your next dinner party since pretty much the econonmy is all anyone talks about anymore.

Faith and Sports

I have never been a big fan of Mother Teresa. Before some of you get upset, hear me out. All of my life I have never known anything about mother Teresa other than she was supposedly a wonderful human being. Upon hearing these comments I then immediately went back to thinking about whatever I was or was not doing at the time. (Eating A Bagel, Writing My Memoir, Skin Grafting)
I believe it be due to proximity. I had never encountered this lady or anyone whom she had personal contact with. This coupled with the fact that most of her work was done in Calcutta meant that other than a brief reference from a teacher, I knew nothing of her.

My relationship with Mother Teresa was akin to my relationship to Larry Bird. I have heard from some people that there was a basketball player named Larry Bird. On top of this, I have heard that he was an amazing basketball player. However, I do not know anybody whom has been to a game that Bird played in. Nor have I ever watched a Celtics game in my entire life. I also don't think I was mentally stable enough at the age of seven to see one of his last games in 1992. Therefore, he is this distant figure, whom I personally know nothing about but have heard nothing but great things. Just like Mother Teresa.

(By the way, this may be my only sports reference that you will ever see in this blog and I'm sorry it wasn't more obscure for you avid sports fans. I know that Larry Bird is the go to guy for white losers like me, while names such as "Pistol" Pete Maravich and Bill Russell would have put a smile on the faces of those whom are probably too busy checking their fantasy sports teams rather than appreciating this blog.)

Anyway, Now that I have clearly established a strained relationship with Agnes(her first name), I have recently realized what an amazing woman that she was.

Aside from living on Time Magazine's list of 100 most influential people, her name is used in daily conversation as if it were synonymous with perfect. We have all heard sentences uttered such as, "Who do you think you are? Mother Teresa?" While her name is good for serving the purpose to make people feel bad for trying to do something nice for once in their lives, I have recently come to discover that what makes her beautiful is not her perfection, but how outspoken she was about her imperfection.


A while back, an article was written about her in the aforementioned Time Magazine. While this is one of her nearly hundred of appearances in this magazine, this was trumpeted as the defining moment in how the public should view her. Her diary that she requested to be burned after her death, was put in the church's hands and given over to the people. In in, she chronicled correspondence that she had with a particular individual in which she expressed that she had times in her life where she did not feel God's presence. She once wrote, “In my own soul, I feel the terrible pain of this loss. I feel that God does not want me, that God is not God and that he does not really exist.” (Religionnewsblog.com)

CNN also dedicated serious time to this discovery. They paraded this diary around as if it were proof that someone such as Mother Teresa was not perfect. This crisis in faith was now the definitive proof that a self proclaimed woman of God was not and could never be perfect.

I know that I am a little late on this train, but reading into the story more, I don't think I could ever be more encouraged than I am right now.

There was a woman, whom felt that God was calling her to live and feed the homeless in Calcutta. Not only did she do it, but she wasn't perfect. She had the same feelings that all of us have. Christians, Non Christians, Agnostics, Whomever. She questioned her very nature on this earth. She was not bestowed with supernatural gifts that made her impervious to pain. She hurt so bad that she constantly felt that this God who called her there may not have even existed.

To me, she is now finally someone I can tangibly empathize with. She won't be used in any of my sentences to ridicule someone for trying to live within the realm of unattainable perfection.

Does that mean that all of my bags are packed and I am ready to move to Calcutta tomorrow to carry on her work? No

Because as of now I am not as strong of a person as she was. But it is within my reach and anyone else's for that matter.

Anyone on this planet can make an immense difference and bring joy and love to those who seem so far from it. We may all need to grow a bit, but it is within our reach.

That is how I was encouraged by by Mother Teresa today.

I know it's like beating a dead horse, but she was a pretty amazing lady.

I do believe that God is there. That Jesus Christ died for our sins. That there is love in this world. That we can experience love on a daily basis, even when it seems like there is nothing there. I don't believe that all the time because sometimes I have bad days, but I try the best I can.

We just need to step outside of ourselves sometimes to feel it.

Being Difficult, Being 20: Part 1: You Cannot Always Get What You Want

College is done. It has been finished for some time. As I sit here now I currently hold a degree, yet I hold no clue as to what I am to be doing in the future.

I also know that as I sit here I am and desire to always be special, not your average run of the mill. I know that my last sentence is one that everyone on the planet says to themselves numerous times during their lives, even if it is subconsciously.

It seems to me that we all desire to live better than those around us because the best way to know your worth is by comparing yourself to your peers. In turn, that desire causes us to do crazy things to set ourselves apart. i.e: go to college, write a book, start a blog, and so on.

Cause when we go to college and make plans for our future, or finally put that pen to paper, it reassures us that we will not go unnoticed. We will not rot behind a desk at a company that cares nothing for me. I will not watch my passion for life dwindle. I will not, I will not, I will not...

I want to be noticed, and it has never been more apparent until I graduated from college. Cause after college what do you do? You get a job, just like everyone else and you rot away.

I have honestly had two thoughts that have run through my head ever since I graduated.

1) I need to get back into college
2) I should write a book

When your growing up it is easy to set yourself apart from the rest. Hence why there are clicks. Your are athletic or your into music and art. While you have have a small group of cronies whom have the same interests as you, your still unique. Your an amazing athlete with so much promise, or you like magic trading cards and listening to black metal while the adults around you feel that you are going through, "a bit of a phase."

Once college hits, you carry that promise with you. College sparks all kinds of interests and experimentation. You find yourself picketing for minority rights out in front of your college bookstore or taking a class on things that you never imagined one could study. You are just...you.

Yet, when you finally exit your college years. Things get a bit tricky. This is the time when your "supposed" to get a job. This "job" thing is the very same thing that your parents have. Not only your parents, but those kids whom you went to high school with that you felt never measured up to their "true potential." To most people in their early 20's, a job means that you suit up and sell out.

However, if you truly wish to circumvent this seemingly tragic ending. There are steps you can take and they are two-fold.

1) Go Back To College
2) Write a Book

Looking at option one is indeed a daunting task. Not only does your sense of accomplishment for having getting your BA go down the drain since their are new goals ahead of you, but it is also a really hard task getting into graduate school. Especially in this economy.

So if your like me, you are currently looking at option two.

However, in my next installment I will look at how this isn't an easy option either.

We Will Overcome!

Recently, I have just been really annoyed by all the hatred that is being spit by anyone who claims to be interested in politics.

Check out some of these soundbites I have recently heard from random bystanders in the past couple of days.

"Obama is change, he is love, and you republicans can go eat a horse and fall in a toilet!"

Or

"Tradition is best! It is what makes this country what it is! I hate everything and everyone that doesn't line up with my view."

Or

"Friday the 13th is the worse horror film remake on the planet! Thank goodness everyone in the film died cause if I saw their nasty faces in anymore films, I think I would do myself in!"

While all of these quotes are false because I just made them up right now, and the third quote really doesn't fit into the whole argument at all, they represent this type of hate and anger that I am seeing everywhere I look.

I am really good at ignoring things and letting them build up inside me and although I hear stress isn't good for you per se, if your good at something, why quit?

However, I was perusing my locally owned organic bookstore, Borders, and I happen to come across the answer to mine and American's problems. In fact, this cure all is so effective that not only will I no longer have to deal with everyone else spitting hate everywhere, but I will no longer have to be a ticking time bomb of stress.

So, What is this answer to all the world's ills?

It is Chuck Norris's brand new book!



This is no joke, this is life changing.

Just check out the reviews on the amazon.com page. They are glowing.

This is the answer!

Post all of your thank you's in the replies.

Books

I love books. They are one of the things that makes me feel alive. Television, while enjoyable, only truly succeeds in numbing me. That is not to take away from amazing television shows such as Ellen or Buffy the Vampire Slayer, they don't hold a candle to books.

As much as I like the challenge of taking on big books, I usually choose them because I have a really hard time enjoying small ones. Not only does it take me a hundred pages or so to truly become invested in a book, but I like to visit these characters on a daily basis.

I just finished Philip Norman's lengthy biography of John Lennon. Being a big Beatles fan, I already knew how John's life came to a tragic end. Yet, for the weeks that I was reading John's everyday life, I always knew that when I got home from work he would be there waiting for me. It is books like these that make me appreciate redundancy, because sometimes it is necessary in order to put of reaching the end.

Finally, when I did close the final page, it really broke my heart that not only was John murdered, but my journey with him ended on that last page. It really made me feel like I knew the guy. Whether or not he was actually how he was portrayed by the author doesn't matter. I just really appreciated hanging out with John for the last bit of my life.

All I know is that I like big books.

I hope this makes sense to somebody.

Almond Joy

Almonds have always had a bad reputation. Sure everyone has heard in at least one conversation that, "You can live off of just six almonds a day, ya know." But in the end, nobody cares because nobody will try it. If you do find yourself in a situation where you barely have enough money to buy a single food item, I can almost guarantee you are not going to spring for the bag of almonds since they are like $43 a pound.

Anyway, Almonds, unless shaved on top of a salad, really are overlooked.

Until today.

Today at my local New Leaf market that I will one day frequent on a regular basis, I came across a small pearl in one of the aisles.

That pearl, ta dah!, ALMOND MILK!

It is really milk that is made out of almonds.

I know they already did this with soy, but lets face it, soy sucks. It doesn't taste anything like milk and most people just order it at a coffee shop because it makes them sound sophisticated. I always see that look on people's faces when they are so surprised that I don't say, "What's your favorite Medium?" when they order their Soy Chai.

What an awful combination. Soy and Chai. Both suck, and surprisingly still don't taste good when put together.

Anyway, Almond Milk.

Actually tastes like Milk. Doesn't need to be refrigerated. Only 40 calories per 8 oz serving. Tastes great with cereal. Isn't soy. Does it get any better? Only if you have more than 1 carton of this manna.

Check it out, don't cheat yourself. Life can and will be good, with Almond Milk.

http://s2.thisnext.com/media/230x230_no_border/Blue-Diamond-Almond-Milk_071A71F1.jpg

Dear Peets

Dear Peets Coffee,
Just because you play classical music in your shop, doesn't make you superior to other coffee shops. Just because you made it a pain in the butt to find seating and only have 3 or 4 little "cute" tables in there, doesn't make you superior to other coffee shops. Just because you hire mature individuals who look like they are "young at heart", doesn't make you superior to other coffee shops.

Your fantastic and aromatic coffee selection, does make you superior to other coffee shops.

Come on Peets, your not fooling anyone.
We know your great, but your a bit cocky.

Know your role,

Reid