"How to" indeed

Today I wanted a little information about something I'd heard. There supposedly exists a small-batch bourbon whiskey of remarkable flavor that happens to be drawn from the cask and bottled uncut, leaving it at around 122 proof (that's approximately 61% alcohol by volume). If the interwebs are to be believed, it does exist and is actually supposed to be a pretty good drink.

Of course, if the interwebs are to be believed, searching for that meant I was also likely to be interested in how to deal with a faux pas, find a job in a growth industry, "help a suicidal student", and how to ski.

Thanks, interwebs, I can feel myself getting more well-rounded every damn second.

¿Los Ingleses? No los conocen...

Some of you may be old enough to remember Speedy Gonzales, the fastest mouse in all of Mexico. And some of you may remember when he was pulled from TV rotation for, uh, well, I'm not entirely clear about that part. I think it was because he was viewed as being a negative stereotype. Possibly it was for speaking in less than perfect English (as compared to... Elmer Fudd? Sylvester? Daffy Duck? Pepe Le Pew?). Or maybe it was for wearing a simplified and stereotypical costume. One argument claims that even though Speedy's raison d'être was to outrun, outwit and outclass the hapless gringos that stood between him and his goals, he was overshadowed by the stereotyped behavior of most of the other mice. Of course, there may have been a whiff of the Frito Bandito controversy hanging around that made Ted Turner's various underlings try to err on the side of safety when they first shelved most of Mr. Gonzales' cartoons.

All of which is to say that in the US, there have been some struggles over what kind of cultural images are acceptable and what aren't. Just in case you hadn't heard, the English-speaking world is not unified enough for these sorts of things to apply everywhere. Example 1: the Asda brand tortilla packaging in the UK. Sorry first about the scan quality, and sorry second about having had wholewheat tortillas in my kitchen. I'm in a foreign land here, and sometimes you just have to make do with what fate throws your way. Now, in case you didn't get a good look at the logo, why don't you check out a close-up.

Seriously. Leaving aside the questionable coloring on the hands (Gloves? Shadows?), what the hell is up with the rest of that? I guess he's supposed to be ecstatic over the quality of the tortillas (which, apart from being wholewheat and too small weren't terrible, or terribly different from those spongy-bleached "wraps" that somehow make people feel better about eating a chicken salad sandwich). But do people here believe Mexicans are that excitable? And bandoliers? Quick check here: who can you think of that wears a bandolier? The list is weirder than I first thought.

Thinking about it, though, maybe there's just too much remove from Mexico for the average British person to get why this might be problematic. I mean, Spain isn't that far away, and the only Spanish character in the British media I can think of is from a show that's 30 years old. There's just no opportunity for most folks here to make any connections between these images and real people. Mexicans? Why not ask about Hui or Sumerians or Yukaghirs, they've got about as much to do with most people's daily experiences here.

Which may be why so few people here seem to find these things odd.


The three images above are from The Dieline, a website about food packaging design and their report on the 2008 Pacakging Design Award winners.

Image dump

The last couple weeks have been a bit harder on the ol' word-making parts of the brain than I'd like. So instead of some comments about something or other, here are a bunch of teeny-tiny photos from my mediocre phone camera. This are the images that I seem to have thought were worth reproducing:

Chemicals, chemicals, non-franchise chemicals!

Now that I'm back amongst the ranks of the employed, I'm going to have to re-state my support for coffee. A legal, socially acceptable stimulant, it's sometimes the only thing that keeps me upright and functional. Now, the shaved apes I have to work with may be happy drinking cup after cup of instant Nescafe all day, but this particular simian needs something a little bit better. Yes, there are two Starbucks and one Costa on my way to work, but I like options. Besides, if I've learned nothing else from the films of Sylvester Stallone, it's that you should support the little guy, the unlikely artist with something to say, the underdog, the heavily armed veteran and the arm-wrestling-truck-driving single father.

Hmm. Seem to have lost the track there. Anyway, if you'd like to find a non-Starbucks coffee nearby, try Delocator.com (or Delocator.ca or Delocator.org.uk, depending on where you're aiming to go) for a postal/zip code search of independently owned coffee shops and tea parlors and such.

(Thanks for the heads up, Secret Agent K!)

What is stupidity alternative to?

Did I say something about optimism?
Forget it. These jokers are selling a new t-shirt that's been pre-torn to make it look like an old t-shirt. It doesn't come with any sort of cool logo, hipster design, or even a retro iron-on. It's just a frayed t-shirt that costs forty dollars.

Forty god-damned dollars for a frayed t-shirt.

Anyone that would pay that, even in devalued 2007 money, is a fucking idiot. And I don't care how alternative your stubble is.

What's that emotion that's lower than scorn, but not as gentle as pity? That's what I feel for the humans. Every last one of us.