One trend that I enjoy is the DIY, retrograde make it yourself, and crafts that have become popular over the years as a way of dealing with the ever increasing pervasive consumerism and buy everything all the time. I suppose that it's a good thing that instead of going all Project Mayhem on American Society the dissidents have decided to yarn bomb and build their own furniture.

Which is why I found this article to be really enjoyable.

But while I was reading this I was struck by how this looking backwards seems to be more an urban movement. One of my parents'friends raises chickens (lovely, lovely beautiful chickens that move around like teeny tiny feathered dinosaurs),and, unlike everyone else, wasn't surprised that I was thinking of raising some of my own in Brooklyn. Her inspiration for getting chickens had been after reading books written by city-folk who were keeping them in their backyard and she had plenty of space to keep "her girls." But my rural chicken raiser is one of the few people I know who is rural who participates in the DIY movement whereas in the city it's weird if you don't have your crafty quirk. Okay, and maybe that's just Brooklyn and I still haven't figured out if it's a demographic thing (that Brooklyn attracts certain types of people) or that it's more a need (that being in this type of environment is overwhelming and people try to find "real" things that they can cling to) although it's probably a combination of the two.

The appropriation of Vampire Weekend

I have no idea if it's ironic or just inevitable that the notoriously ivy-league African influenced band Vampire Weekend would find their song "Holiday" to be the theme for commercials all around the Christmas season. Of course Tommy Hilfiger, the brand for prepsters who haven't yet figured out that the only critter on your lapel should be a crocodile or reasonably sized polo player, would use the song in one of his commercials.

And then there's the Honda Civic commercial. I hate that commercial because there is a glaring inappropriateness between the lyrics and getting someone to buy a Honda Civic. The first being the entire commercial is set in winter where as in the song holiday is both an noun and a verb. It's a song about spending the day on a beach in the summer, taking a holiday. The song places the singer (and the listener) as a member of whatever groups (east coast elites, wannabe-elites, british people) who don't go on vacation, they go on holiday.

But the Honda Civic ad basically ignores that the lyrics clearly refers to the summer and makes it a friendly ad for everyone who has ever needed a boring mini-van to truck their kids around for the holiday season.

Also, while I really, really like the album Contra, that song is my least favorite song so yes, I'm disgruntled to be forced to hear it while I'm watching tv. But at least the holidays are over! Here's hoping that the ad execs aren't going to repurpose the song for summer...

garlic soup

This week the weather has been seasonably cold (for the Northern Hemisphere) prompting a good chunk of the population to complain about how low the mercury has been rising. Look, unlike the unreasonable heat of New York City's summers which are made worse by an urban heat island effect, an average of freezing in December and January is actually normal. According to the BBC the current weather pattern of wintery mixes and icy sidewalks would have been worse (and more frigid) thirty years ago.

For me the cold is a time to embrace a lot of things, like curling up with a good book, drinking hot drinks, wearing sweaters, embracing the cold and the feeling of burning warmth when you go back inside to a heated building. It is also a great time for cooking and not hating yourself for heating up your already hot and muggy apartment or wanting to curse out whole foods for reminding you that you do not own a BBQ. Baking is what December is about!

I've been meaning to try this garlic soup recipe off of 101cookbooks.com, ever since one of my cousins sent it to me. It's not particularly hard but I'm generally frightened of anything that needs a better part of an hour to simmer because soups should be easy. As in open can of soup, pour into a saucepan, pour in some water if need be and heat until hot. It's all right there. Why then, make soup from scratch? Because it is fucking good. And it's winter and freezing outside. Instead of complaining that it's cold out, and you probably have almost all of the ingredients in your kitchen anyway or you should if you know what's good for ya. Take a head of garlic, crush 12 cloves, peel said cloves and the chop the buggers into small pieces. Then bring four cups of water to boil, dump in the garlic, a bay leaf, two sage leaves and some thyme. Add salt. Reduce the broth mixture to a simmer. Leave it like that for about forty minutes. I don't know, go outside and go sledding or curl up a book and read or something. After you've finished a chapter or have lost feeling in your fingers return to the kitchen. Does the pot smell like something garlicky and wonderful? If yes, strain the water into a bowl and pick out the bay and sage leaves. Pour water and the garlic back into the pot off-heat.

Now, in a smallish bowl toss in an egg, two egg yolks, a good portion of grated Parmesan cheese and pepper. Whisk it up until it looks like something you would make scramble eggs with. Now add some olive oil and whisk whisk whisk. Take a ladle full of your broth and SLOWLY add it to the egg mix, whisking all the while. And now we're almost done, so you take the contents of the bowl and put them into the pot, turn the burner of the pot on medium low and continue whisking until the soup has been reduced to a thicker consistency, say somewhere between two percent to half and half cream. Take some bread, crusty, french, whatever but real bread and place it in your bowl. Pour soup over and drizzle some olive oil. Eat and feel warm and smug.

rats ... err mice!

As sure as a perplexed robin sitting on the one piece of green grass surrounded by snow being a sign of spring, winter is upon us as I noticed that the remaining fourth of my wonderful coffee cake has been hollowed out by mice. Not that I was going to eat the rest of it at it had been sitting there untouched for the past week and was going to soon be thrown out. But with the weather turning somewhat warm again, I'm hoping that the mice will soon go back to scurrying around outside because I've heard that they also eat books.

i started reading mine last night

My Kindle is a magical device that receives the New Yorker every Sunday night. Magic! Efficiency from a magazine! Has the magazine industry ever considered that one of the reasons people no longer subscribe to magazines might be that by the time an issue has arrived in the post its been three weeks since it first appeared on news stands? Being able to read a magazine when it's current almost makes up for the lack of being able to flip directly to the movie review section/cartoons.

Peace of Mind

Here's a delightful post (reposted from The Happiness Project) about whether or not something should be considered clutter.

This works for clothes as well, although I'll add that if I haven't worn it within the past year and it's not a special occasion outfit then I can give it away. Alas, that rule hasn't helped me weed through the two dozen sweaters that I own.

Missing the Target on Halloween

I kind of like to watch commercials. Most of them are terrible but a few, like the wonderful Sony Brava commercial, are great short films. But it's not purely for the entertainment value... commercials tell us a lot about cultural assumptions as sales people are not known for their nuanced views of society and gender roles (women are attracted to pink and like shoes! men like boobs! daytime television viewers enjoyed being shouted at while watching their court tv thingies!)... Commercials also tell us about who the producers believe are watching or listening to their programs.

Anyway, I ended up watching Top Chef Just Desserts last night and thought, hey, apparently this is a show watched by homewives who stay up late. Besides learning that women are suppose to care about the softness of their hands and that sponges speak like southern bells (quoi?), I learned that Target thinks that awesomely detailed homemade Iron Man costumes don't compare with their mass produced official Target available one. Not only did the homemade Iron Man costume look so much cooler, but it would be guarantee the child wearing it to get more and better candy than the store bought one. There are two ways to win at Halloween, the first to is have an elaborately detailed outfit and the second is to be clever. The target one is neither.

I'm not the only person who has found this as appalling. Here's a nice take down on Slate.