Steph lamented shallow journalism yesterday, and today I understood better what she meant when I read the brief article on exploring Armenia in the Austrian Airways “skylines” magazine.  I learned a number of things about Armenia – the importance of the diaspora, of the unreachable Ararat, of the Christian religion – but then the author waxed poetic about Lake Sevan, the highest lake in the world at 1900 meters above sea level. 

To which I say: Titicaca.   

Yesterday night, as I was gluing strips of plastic onto particle board (more about that later), I also followed the Eurovision Song Contest.  It was the usual smorgasbord of mediocre performances about “ay-pri COT STONES” and “Sweet People, the End is Near.”  Some of them danced well, others sang well (especially the Portuguese girl), some brought molasses gobs of pathos to the show.  And others managed neither, such as for instance Lena, the German contestant, who sang in a terrible faux Essex girl accent about being a satellite that can’t leave her guy due to the laws of physics.  Apparently, she’s a dancer – but she didn’t dance.

Then the votes came in from all participating countries, giving points to the different contestants based to 50% on the vote tally and 50% on the opinion of local judges.  And guess who trounced the competition?  Yes, it was Lena – who didn’t offer the best performance by any measure, except perhaps in pre-show promotion.

So, if people judging music contestants from Eurovision to American Idol can demonstrably make bad democratic choices, what does that say about our political system?  I don’t think that replacing democracy with an oligarchy will improve things – witness the opinions of our elite art critics, which rival that of the Eurovision voters in bad taste (think Damien Hirst).  Is democracy the best we can do with flawed people, with a populace where half the voters are of below average intelligence and wisdom?  Will the vulnerability of democracy to promotion and marketing be its downfall?

I’d long thought of making a beer chicken, ever since I’d first heard about it.  A misunderstanding between Janet and me was what had me making beer chicken instead of just buying a pre-made chicken from the store.  It appears it’ll be a while until we work out how to avoid misunderstandings and frustrated expectations, but we both agreed the beer chicken was tasty and worth making again (maybe next time with a brine, too).

I mostly followed this recipe, which I’m certain is originally American anyway, considering that the dry rub ingredients contain brown sugar and dry mustard, and learned that a mostly full beer can stuck up a dead chicken’s butt will not get even close to evaporating off all its contents in a 220-degree oven.  I guess soaking the entire oven sheet with beer helped the wash-up.

Yesterday, I boiled water for a cuppa, and forgot about the pan until there were but a few drops left.  Needless to say, the pan was full of freshly deposited limescale.  So I thought, if Jon can clean a dishwasher with Kool-Aid, perhaps I can avoid scrubbing the limescale if I dump some vinegar into the pan (to attack the limescale) and add some lemon juice (so the citric acid can chelate the calcium ions).  I did, swished the mixture around a bit (which alone made me happy I’d added the lemon juice), and dumped the solution.  Indeed, except for a little lip of scale everything was gone!

Apparently, the US Army takes great pains to ensure the troops get their brownies comme il faut.  The “recipe” makes me think of the Paperwork Reduction Act of which the IRS forms keep reminding me.  More than that, I looked up the Act online, and it appears they’re fighting fire with fire: If you want to make the public fill out a form, you must first apply with Form 83-I – seven pages long.

So, who gave them permission to create and require 83-I?

Every day now it looks like I better take a picture of the tummy before I can’t anymore – though with a baby here I don’t think I’ll miss the tummy that much.  Here’s today’s favorite.

It runs almost by itself.

…until you need a blood transfusion.  According to the Swiss Red Cross, the next generation of donors is dwindling, and not just because we’re living in an aging society.  No, it’s because every tenth young person wanting to give blood has to be turned down.

Why?  Because in the last six months, they’ve engaged in risky behavior such as the following:
– had a tattoo done
– had a piercing done
– had sex with a new partner
– travelled to areas with risk of malaria or other diseases

So why do we call it safe sex, if we don’t let people donate blood after having it?