Movie Title

Is it just me or have the titles to movies become increasingly simplistic? These days movies go for the simplest, 1 word title that would best describe the movie. There is no irony, they're never tongue in cheek. In the near future we have a movie coming out called 'Buried', about a guy who is buried. There's 'Faster' starring the Rock. I imagine the Rock does stuff faster than one normally would. At least there must be some kind of acceleration in the film. Just now I saw the trailer for 'Devil'. I think it's about Rosie Odonnel. And remember Phone Booth? About a guy in a phone booth, being held hostage?

I wonder if they come up with the story first, or just a title. We tried it the other day at lunch. The movie is called 'Kayak.' The trailer would be a guy kayaking and then a cell phone would ring. Anthony Hopkins would be on the other end. "Tyler, if you would look underneath the blanket in your kayak..." And then the guy, (Sam Worthington I guess) would look under the blanket and find a bomb. Anthony Hopkins would then explain, "If you stop paddling, then the Kayak will explode... Also, the Kayak is heading toward a waterfall."

This summer...in theatres... kayking... is.... very dangerous...

Then Sam Worthington would cry out, "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" and Anthony Hopkins would say, "Just keep paddling for now..."

The ending is obvious. Anthony Hopkins wants revenge on Sam Worthington because as a child, Hopkins was sexually abused by Worthington's dad who was a catholic priest.

Rated R for nudity, coarse language and a troubling scene featuring a grizzly bear.

Master Chef

I don't often turn on the television and watch whatever's on, but I just finished watching Master Chef. I didn't think I could ever enjoy watching a compettitive, cooking reality show, but it was freaking tense. I'm not a particularly ambitious person, so to see people excelling at anything is awesome to me. I love food, I even like cooking, but I can't imagine putting the time and effort that these people have invested into their craft, to be an excellent chef.

There are people crying and freaking out. "Ooooh snap!!! Did he just put salt on a soufflee???" Yes... he did. And I'm wondering... Is that bad?

I'm told Gordon Ramsay is... someone I should know. Watching the show he's the cooking world's answer to Simon Cowell, an obnoxious, mercurial Brit who doesn't hesitate to make people feel like garbage for dramatic effect. One of the other judges on the show simply said of a dish, "This is bad..... It's bad as a dessert.... It would be bad as breakfast." Then he threw his fork down with no small measure of contempt.

OUCH! But i was hooked from that moment on. It's fun to live in a world where everyone has different passions. I mean, no matter how many hours, how many years you put into becoming the ultimate chef, the product is so transient. If there's one thing the perfect soufflee and a Big Mac have in common, it's that after they're eaten, their destiny is the toilet. A reeking, brown log riding waves of sewage until the end of time... Or at least until a rat eats it. Is it just me, or can I be just as happy after eating a Big Mac trio for 8$, as I could eating a 100$ carefully prepared masterpiece? Not to say I don't like eating fancy from time to time... It's just one of those oddities of our culture. There are people in this world paid to harshly judge how carefully ingredients are put together on a few ounces of food, and other people who would be lucky to eat that amount of food in a week. Just a thought.

Rice, potatoes and homos

Last Thursday was fun. On my way to lunch I smelled gas. Apparently, while building the foundation for the new Genomics Center at Concordia, the construction workers hit a gas line. It smelled a lot like the gas used to light our Bunsen burners meaning it was potentially explosive gas. A fleet of fire trucks and a few cop cars showed up and soon the entire school was closed off! With my laptop and all my work stuck inside!

It was a gift... Like a snow day when you're a kid... Or when you're digging through trash and find a hot dog that's only half eaten. There's nothing like an impromptu day off. So Hayline and I went to a lebanese restaurant called Amir. I giggled to myself and pointed out the menu to Hayline. "Look Hayline! They serve Rice, Potatoes and Homos with every combo!" (Riz, Patates et Homos). Clearly someone tried to translate humus into french and in a fortuitous turn of events forgot the 'u'.

Me: "I'll have a mixed plate."
Lebanese guy: "Would you like some homos with that???"
Me: "No, thank you."
Lebanese guy: "There's nothing like the taste of homos in your mouth!"
Me: "No, I'm good."
Lebanese guy: "Don't be a homosphobe!! It's a delicious, creamy treat in the mouth!!!"

Then I secretly go off and dip all my food in delicious homos sauce, "I wish I knew how to quit you, Homos..."

What's really funny is... who puts hummus on the menu? Isn't that like putting ketchup or mustard? Besides, they didn't mention that the combo also comes with garlic sauce. It's almost as if putting Homos all over the menus was deliberate.

Speaking of Homos, I got a chance to flick through the channels watching daytime television. Has anyone seen the show Chris and Steve? It's a talk show featuring two gay guys. The hilight of that was after examining which flowers are most conducive to feng sui in the house, the pair (at this point wearing matching aprons with their names on it) were decorating a piece of wall with some kind of lacker. Gingerly holding their tools, one of them messed up the project, and ran off with his hands on his hips, pouting and whining like a child with a stereotypical lisp. Hayline then asked, "How do you know they're gay?" I don't know, just a hunch.

We then watched the brilliant show, "Community", where the Black guy confirmed my suspicion which is that Black people are allowed to be homophobic. (Nuff Respek, Isaiah Washington!)

Anyway, keep up the good work Concordia Construction workers. We have a four day weekend coming up, care to make it 5? Just don't light any matches near the next "accident".

Apologies that appall (A word about Woods)

I'm not always up to date on the news, but what qualifies as news is often outrageous. I refer particularly to celebrities apologizing for some horrendous thing that they've done. In the last few years Michael Richards, Mel Gibson and Isaiah Washington have all had to go on national television and explain why they used offensive language. But with the exception of Michael Richards, these offenses were done in private, why should they have to apologize to the world? Also, what possible sincerity could be in such an apology for people who's career seems to be on the line. I mean, what they do in public is worth millions of dollars to them, of course they'd apologize!

Which brings me to Tiger Woods. Why in the world does he have to make a public statement to me because he cheated on his wife? Why does the entire world have to get in on this circus? What bothers me more than anything is the hypocrisy of it all. The western world is hardly a country that values fidelity in marriage. At least not enough to justify this outlash against Tiger.

Surely you've all have heard of Ashley Madison, the online dating service for people looking to have an affair. Their slogan is, "Life is short, have an affair!" There are allegedly 5.3 million users on that site. Most surveys you read will say that 22% of people admit to being unfaithful to their current partner and about 50% will admit to having been unfaithful at some point in their life. That means that among the people who have an opinion about Tiger Woods, possibly half of them have already cheated on someone, they just had the luxury of dealing with it in private.

So what makes Tiger Woods, a golfer, subject to such a severe backlash? Many people have suggested racism may play a role. Seems too simple to me. Bill Cosby and Michael Jordan come to mind as Black people who seemed to fly under the radar during their affairs. Hugh Grant, Bill Clinton, they all had some media attention while involved in gross affairs. Is it because Tiger Woods is a Black man with a white wife? Is it because the women he cheated with were ugly? Or is it all of that, combined with the fact that he gets paid billions of dollars to play golf all day? That would certainly make a racist angry, wouldn't it?

Maybe he owes his friends and family an apology. Certainly his wife and kids. Maybe if he were a pastor? But a golfer? Tiger Woods said in his public statement, "I thought I could get away with it! I'm rich!" This sadly is the most reasonable thing he could have said! It's the most honest thing he could have said, and all things being equal, he probably should have "gotten away with it."

Don't get me wrong, in my opinion, infidelity is one of the most despicable things someone can be involved in. But it's not that that dissapoints me about Tiger. It's seeing him go up there with his tail between his legs as if he has to answer to the world for doing something that the world seems to be okay with. This was Tiger's chance to really do something great. The man has billions of dollars, you know what I say? Hold your press conference, go up to that podium, take a few steps left, pull down your pants and invite the entire planet to kiss your big, black, billionaire backside! (Ten dollars a smooch, 1 cheek per person, no tongue please.) Let he who is without sin, give said backside a swift kick but clearly very few people in the world would qualify for that. So I say pucker up!

White Chocolate Brownies

I was calling a friend racist as I often do. I think it was justified this time. She was comparing me to Sebastien the crab from the little Mermaid. Anyway, it lead us to ponder an inconsistency in the English language that I think is worth sharing. The conversation went like this:

DoctaC$G says:

and you're RACIST!!!

says:

speaking of that

i was considering making white chocolate brownies

think that's possible?!

i love white chocolate

DoctaC$G says:

Why white chocolate?

leave it to the man to take delicious chocolate and turn it white.

says:

its sweeter

DoctaC$G says:

anyway, it's possible, I think I've had it before.

says:

do you remember it being good?

DoctaC$G says:

I think I found it too sweet.

and of course at that point they're not brownies.

they're whities.

says:

LOOOOOL

HAHAHAHAHAHA

I wonder... Should white chocolate even be called chocolate anymore? Couldn't they just think of another name for that particular candy? You know that white chocolate only has to be 20% cocoa butter to be sold as chocolate? Doesn't sound like chocolate to me... Here I was going to make a joke like, "that's about as chocolate as Nicole Richie!" Or... "Lionel Richie!" But I decided that would be in poor taste as I am a fan of Lionel Richie and relatively neutral about Nicole. Did you know that grown Iraqi men weep at the mere mention of Lionel Richie's name? Yes, he's very popular in the Middle East.

But I digress... And by that I mean, I should be working instead of putzing around online. L8ter haters!

P90X

I've been pretty lazy the last year or so. I often fall asleep on the couch and wake up at odd hours, sleeping badly and then being tired throughout the next day. But just now I woke up to this infomercial for P90X, easily the best infomercial I've seen after that guy who cuts through a wall with his kitchen knives.

It's not a video workout. It's an extreme home fitness revolution that uses techniques of muscle confusion to get YOU absolutely ripped in just 90 days. As I write this an ALERT appears on the screen telling me that I can get a free pro-grade resistance band if I order in the next five minutes... I've never been so overwhelmed by a commercial before. I just wake up and you have that stony voice growling at you... "YOU CAN GET ABSOLUTELY RIPPED IN ONLY 90 DAYS ALL YOU NEED IS SOME DUMBELLS, A CHIN UP BAR AND A PRO-GRADE RESISTANCE BAND IF YOU ORDER IN THE NEXT 5 MINUTES." I am compelled to do exactly what the man says. It was the most effective infomercial I have ever seen in my life.

If you go to the website you'll see that the XPERTS (including motivational the Master of Motivation behind P90X, Tony Horton) teach you such workouts that include PLYOMETRICS!!! YOGA X!!! KENPO X !!! AB RIPPER X!!! and even X STRETCH!!! WHAT THE HECK IS KENPO X????? WOOOOOAAAAAAAH!!!!! Maybe it's just late, and maybe I'm just tired... But I want all of this hardcore extremeness to be part of my life TODAY.... X! I want music like this ringing in my brain for the rest of my life!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZciY7ymPmU

When I walk into the lab, I want this music to play the moment the door opens. Not even from a stereo or anything, it will just be God turning on some kind of divine soundtrack that follows me around wherever I go. I want my co-workers to say, "Chris!!! I can't hear myself think!!! you're too hardcore and extreme!!!" As I pipette 10 microleters of HF buffer into a PCR tube.

I'm going to go from Tim Horton to Tony Horton in just 90 days!!! P90x MOTHA #t%!@!!!

Then I imagine as my motivation wanes, I'll go from Tony Horton back to Horton Hears a Who. :-( Exercise is such a drag. I'll think about it tomorrow though. Where am I going to put a chin-up bar in my apartment?? Bah... The rush has worn off... Thank you for being a part of my short lived dreams of becoming absolutely ripped.

*yawn*

Dichloromethane-Man, Dichloromethane-Man, does what ever Dichloromethane can

I do complain about Concordia from time to time. But we've had good times and bad times. Among the good times, is a recent experience I had in the lab. I was working with a chemical called dichloromethane, a toxic organic compound that is highly volatile. The liquid was in a bottle with a strange pump fastenned to the top. When I figured out how it worked, I was so excited I didn't realize there was a rubber cap blocking the spout. I forced down the plunger and was splashed with dichloromethane.

I may have gotten a drop on my hand. DCM, is so volatile it evaporates in seconds. I kept my cool, and looked up the safety information online. It attacks the central nervous system. That just happens to be my favourite nervous system. The MSDS (safety info) says in case you get some on your skin, you should rinse for 10 minutes with soap and water. I did that, but still wondered about my precious entral nervous system. Would the freak lab accident enhance my central nervous system to super-hero esque levels, giving me psychic powers?? Or would my IQ dwindle to the level of slack-jawed yokel??

I began to rant and rave as I often do, when someone suggested I call Info-Sante, perhaps hoping I would fret to them for a while. Sadly, I forgot to dial "9" for outgoing calls and I ended up getting in touch with a frenetic woman who worked at some kind of Concordia Emergency line. I excused myself, telling her it wasn't my intention to call her. Nevertheless, she asked me what hapenned. I made the mistake of telling her.

Lady: "Dye... cloro... what???"
Me: "Oh, it's okay, I just followed the directions online and..."
Lady: "An agent will be up to see you in a moment."

An agent??? I told her it wasn't necessary but in less than 5 minutes one security guard was in the lab looking around for a chemical spill. I told him there was a small splash and whatever was spilled probably evaporated before even hitting any surface. Two more agents came, one with a first aid kit, asking for my name, my supervisors name and the name of the reagent that I spilled. They were looking around the lab desperately to find the chemical spill. You can tell that before arriving they were anticipating a glowing green puddle, with red steam rising from it. They were dissapointed and asked if there was any burning on the spot where I had spilled DCM on my hand. I said no.

This didn't stop the 3 burly security guards from escorting me to the Concordia clinic where we met up with the safety officer from the chemistry department who deals with hazardous spills. He promptly went online to retrieve the information about what I had spilled (which I had already done). Following all that excitement there was a detailed report to fill out and a series of jokes about me dying, having my hand amputated and losing all of my skin pigmentation like Michael Jackson.

Good times. I came back to the lab where I was laughed at, nevertheless, impressed by the efficiency of the security guards. Does anyone remember when they suspected someone might have a gun in the school. It didn't take more than 10 minutes for them to muster a swat team, helicopters and snipers (only to discover that the potential assailant was carrying kendo sticks). But, it's good to know how efficient the security here is. Thanks to the men and women and Concordia Secuirty. I make jibes about Concordia, but at least we're pretty safe. That being said, next time I spill a chemical on me, I think I'll just suck it up and rinse with water.