Pro-sess-es

Next time your professor pronounces it “Pro-suh-seez”, refer him or her to this.

USAGE NOTE In recent years there has been a tendency to pronounce the plural ending –es of processes as (-ēz), perhaps by analogy with words of Greek origin such as analysis and neurosis. But process is not of Greek origin, and there is no etymological justification for this pronunciation of its plural. However, because this pronunciation is not uncommon even in educated speech, it is generally considered an acceptable variant, although it still strikes some listeners as a bungled affectation. In a recent survey 79 percent of the Usage Panel preferred the standard pronunciation (-ĭz) for the plural ending –es and 15 percent preferred the pronunciation (-ēz). • Although the pronunciation for process with a long (o), (prō’sĕs’), is more usual in British English, it is an acceptable variant in American English.

Yes, that’s right, pronouncing it “pro-suh-seez” instead of “pro-sess-es” is LESS educated. If you do that, you don’t know the word is not of Greek origin. So, professors, stop trying to sound so educated by mispronouncing a common word! Nobody’s impressed.

Who is this lady on everyone's coins?

So... I have a little coffee can full of coins from every corner of the Earth (truly a feat because the Earth is indeed spherical), and I've noticed an alarming trend.

Tell me what you think coins from these countries/territories might have in common:

Fiji
Canada
East Caribbean States
Australia
Hong Kong (Pre-China return)

Off-topic

You're doomed.

Having lived with my girlfriend-at-the-time for two and a half years, I came to take some of her possessions for granted. Then, one inappropriately bright and shining summer day, all of that stuff left my home and traveled to her new one, far away. Most of those possessions I was actually happier without, because most of it was stuff for which I had no use and for which we had no space to actually store. One among those things, though, was sorely missed after it was gone: The vacuum cleaner.

It wasn't a particularly good vacuum cleaner, no. It barely picked up visible bits of dirt on the floor, cleaning its supposedly-convenient "bagless" dirt canister was an ordeal akin to smoking seven cigars full of allergens at once, it was an ugly shade of purple, and it once killed Clunkline and every other electronic device in my living room because its obscene power consumption tripped a breaker. Despite all this, though, living for months with unswept carpets is pretty damn disgusting.

But that I did, spending months wading through a sea of dust, leftover cat litter, bits of fuzz, fecal matter, rotten fish carcasses, and the occasional drifter, all festering happily, knowing that they could not be picked up by any carpet-cleaning device so long as I lacked one.

This was remedied, however, on my birthday, when I received the most lethal, fearsome, daunting, shit-your-pants-insane doom engine to ever bear the name "Hoover".

This is the face of the vacuum cleaner that will bring about the end of days.

The Hoover Windtunnel Bagged Upright is about four feet of blue apocalypse. When you remove it from the box, the O Fortuna bit of the Carmina Burana starts playing.

I let the thing sit for a couple of days, because there were either people sleeping in my house or I just didn't have time to use it. However, today I decided to carry it upstairs, plugged it in, and let loose the four horsemen.

I plugged in the beast, walked over to it, and flipped the switch, conveniently located on the handle. The first thing this weapon of mass suction did was attempt to jerk me to the ground by taking off like a drag racer just letting off its trans-brake. I'm pretty sure that purely through the power of its own brush, this machine could pull you along at a good 3-5mph if you wore a pair of rollerblades. And you'd leave a path of cleanliness behind!

The noise it made was more akin to something made by Pratt and Whitney than Hoover... It sounded like the engines of a 747 in the throes of takeoff throttle. This served to further convince me that my vacuum cleaner's power wasn't measured in terms of suction, but in pounds of thrust of its exhaust.

The most exciting feature of this death machine, however, was the "dirt detector" feature. Using it on dirty carpet (which never lasts long), the red light will shine. However, as the carpet becomes clean, it gives way to a little green light. This makes vacuum cleaning endlessly more fun. It's sort of like a game, whereby you have to make sure that little light doesn't turn red anywhere in the room in question. I'd like to try using it on homeless people.

Now, I've run out of time. You can imagine your own conclusion to this article.

Organic as our thumbs

Text messaging has, since its birth as a means of communication not all that long ago, been the center of so much controversy, so much elderly cane-wagging and youthful insolence, that it is a wonder we even have time to text given the amount of time we spend arguing about it. People lament its effects on the capacity of people to communicate emotionally. People lament the terrible degeneration of humanity's capacities to make face-to-face contact. People lament T9's removal of a need to know how to spell something correctly. People lament that folks spend so much time staring at a little 1.5"×2" screen instead of the world around them.

And they have a point, to the extent that the people lamenting every other unproductive distraction's effects on society have a point. It's just a point that's about as likely to be supported by society as a presidential bid by Carrot Top. Because really, as much as the elderly think that texting is the newest means through which society will decay into nothingness, texting is harmless.

Normal people still meet with each other in person. Normal people still experience emotions. Normal people still can appreciate a warm summer breeze or the gentle rumble of a purring cat on the shoulder. So for normal people, texting is just another means of communication.

And why is the text-hater's rallying cry always something to do with just making a phone call like God intended? Alexander Graham Bell is turning over in his grave as you trivialize his invention. Nothing about the phone call is natural. You are talking to a box, and the box talks back to you and you're pretty sure the box is saying what your friend would be saying if your friend were in the room with you having the same conversation. Texting is the same. Sure, we could debate the amount of emotion expressed by vocal tone and so on, but even then there is a vast array of emoticons at the disposal of anyone who might want to express any emotion.

Making these comparisons is missing the point anyway. Texting is held by normal people as a supplemental means of communication, not a means to supplant communication. Why do we embrace these stories of the wacko who would only text his girlfriend? Because they're bizarre to us. If normal people acted that way, we wouldn't think the story so strange, and maybe then we should take a retrospective if it's so harmful.

So leave my texting alone! Much unlike a rude phone call in a crowded room, at least it's not bugging anyone.

Luddite or Technophile?

And is there a reason to draw such a stark distinction between the two? Of course not. But everyone likes a nice succinct title.

I was talking to a Chinese friend today, and she showed me a video about the absolutely incredible amount of change communications technology has made in our world. It presents some boxer-staining statistics about media technology. 2,000,000 of the televisions in the US are in bathrooms? I don't even watch the one in my living room! More video has been uploaded to YouTube in the last 2 months than if ABC, NBC, and CBS had been airing new content constantly since 1948. Of course, have you seen most of the stuff on YouTube? I don't know how many self-involved 14-year-olds I can watch talk about copyright law to their webcam before I do something I like better, like sticking myself with used needles. Still, the point is, the media through which we consume entertainment have been altered in ways that we still don't fully understand in the period of only a few short years. Did YouTube even exist when I started college? Yes, but only barely. Its creation beat my entry into academia by six months. Now it happily wastes the time of millions worldwide on a daily basis.

The thing that perplexed me (that is until it was explained) was that she was stressed out by this info. I couldn't understand why! The world is becoming an increasingly complex and increasingly amazing place, and this evidence of that is just even more encouraging. If things continue to develop at these exponentially increasing rates, the future could hold things that we could never even imagine now, but will find novel and then mundane within only the period of a few years. Our simple capacity to get bored with a new and incredible innovation as frequently as we do speaks untold volumes about the standards we've set for ourselves, and we outdo these standards on a regular basis. I couldn't imagine what I've got available to me now from my vantage point six years ago. What will 2015 be like?

My friend, however, isn't so convinced. Which is weird, considering she's from the fastest growing country in the world, where a tiny fishing village across the river from an old town over the process of 18 years turned into this:

The eastern half of Shanghai. Not one of these buildings is more than 18 years old.
And that means extending to the horizon.

She feels that it's too much, too fast. The world is becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with. And I can see that, I suppose. There are still plenty of people among us who have no idea how to even use a computer, or a cellphone. What would it be like to become one of those people someday? It's alarming, sure. Why not just give up now, buy a Buick and go to the Meadows every weekday to fart on a stool and burn your government-given income? After all, we're all destined to become that elderly person so hopeless in an ever-changing world that people just excuse her by saying "It's okay, she's old. She doesn't get it." And wouldn't it make sense that as technology advances faster, the age at which technology comprehension stops gets lower?

But I honestly don't think that will happen. The fact of the matter is, anything that is so advanced that nobody will be able to figure it out is also something that will not sell. Nobody's going to put a product on the market that people won't be able to figure out. Except maybe Skymall. So I think we're actually pretty decently protected by our own stupidity in that regard. And if YouTube's any indicator, that protective layer is getting thicker and thicker every day. Hey, anyone who's ever taken Glenn Beck seriously is just another indicator of that. He got you to call yourselves "Teabaggers." Do you know what that means?

That's not what we're here to talk about, though. Tell me, internet, does this progress give you pause or give you excitement?

The Creative Process

Sit down on the edge of the legendary floor-mattress that is my bed.

Cross-legged.

Legs on the mattress or hanging off onto the floor?

Maybe I should lay down.

How does Facebook look since 5 minutes ago? The same.

Did I get any e-mail? Nope.

What did I want to do anyway?

Facebook? Still boring.

My arm is falling asleep and my back hurts. Laying down sucks. Maybe it's better on the other side.

Oh, yeah, it's Tuesday, so I need to churn out an entry or three for that blogging class. I really should be doing that every day.

Ooh! I have comments!

Ooh, none of them are from anyone in my actual group, just from friends!

In fact, out of my group, umm, nobody has posted.

No wonder it's so hard to do this every day.

Ok, to business. What the hell was I going to write about?

No idea. Roommate says write about the local elections. I don't even know anything about them. I guess that makes me part of the problem.

Maybe I need music. What am I in the mood for? Rather, for what am I in the mood?

Who made that preposition rule anyway?

Ugh, why is that still in my library?

Okay, nothing too distracting, don't want to disturb my waves of inspiration.

Right. Inspiration.

...

Maybe I need some tea.

::Kitchen intermission::

Okay. Have tea, have music, I have given myself the perfect environment for writing inspiration.

And still have no idea.

Facebook is still boring. I couldn't possibly care less what my friend's dad is doing in Vampire Wars.

Ooh, did my phone vibrate?

Nope.

Focus. What should I write about?

Maybe I need different music.

No, this is fine... You're not focusing on the matter at hand.

I rarely do, and I like it that way, thank you.

Why don't I just write about this process?

Brilliant.

I think I need more tea first.

Words, phrases, and expressions that should be erased from the lexicon

I'm a wordy person. One time I was at a used bookstore and found a book called The Highly Selective Dictionary for the Extraordinarily Literate. It's a book entirely full of overly flowery and complicated words for dorks like me who enjoy being a walking thesaurus. I was happier than a 13-year-old boy with an unrestricted internet connection and parents on a day trip somewhere far away.

Given my affinity for words and my snobbish approach to deciding which one I feel is best in any particular situation (when I edit people's work, they end up despising me afterward,) I have a lot of opinions on what words are worthy of the utmost hatred.

FML: This is a shortened internet version of the phrase "Fuck my life." This phrase, whether in daily conversation or found in its abbreviated form online, is the anthem of our self-involved society. It is entirely nonsensical. It sounds unimaginably stupid. And your life isn't nearly as terrible as you think it is. A similar phrase that is awful for the same reasons is "fuck me!" What ever happened to good old "goddamnit?"

Hoighty-Toighty: It just sounds like crap.

Mediums: We had a perfectly good plural for this word already. Media. Mediums is now accepted by all sources, but I maintain it's wrong.

The reason why: Putting the why here is totally unnecessary. If you're going to say "Do you know the reason why?" you can carry across the same meaning by saying "Do you know the reason?" It's much more clear.

Due to the fact: Ever want to convince someone that your argument is sophomoric trash? Throw in a "due to the fact that" or two and you'll undermine your credibility in no time. I'm all for canning "due to" altogether and replacing it with "as a result of."

I could care less: No, you couldn't.

ATM Machine: Redundant.

Poughkeepsie: They really need to rename that city. New York is absolutely stuffed with towns that have really stupid-sounding names.

Emo: This word has no meaning. And it's really dumb. Only acceptable to describe a haircut.

There are probably hundreds more words and expressions I can think of that I loathe to the point that I will not say them and will stop reading the work of an author that uses them when I see them, but it's one of those things that needs to be brought out of me. It's hard to just sit here and think of them. More on this later.

Pittsburgh isn't bad, but it would be way cooler with...

Decent mass transit.

How many times have you not gone to the city because you don't want to make the drive? Think about it... There are those times of day when you know no matter what route you take, the drive will be an intolerable hassle. I know coming from Greensburg, all of my options are currently terrible during anything but the late hours of the night. I can:

Take Route 30 all the way from Greensburg to Forest Hills: This is a nice straight line, but it involves accelerating from 0 to 55 about 9 trillion times, because there are actually more red lights on this stretch of 30 than there are in the entire state of Montana. For those of us who staunchly refuse to drive automatics, that means going through all five gears only to end up right back at a standstill less than 20 seconds later. You've also got a LOT of people who hang out in the left lane and do less than the speed limit. This path is really only an option for the true masochist, or traveling late at night.

Take Route 30 to the Turnpike in Irwin, ride that for the exorbitant fee of $.95, get off in Monroeville, and take the Parkway in: This costs money, which is step one to making it a turn-off. Also, this particular section of the Turnpike has this weird twilight-zone effect where it seems like the distance between Irwin and Monroeville is multiplied twofold. It's not really that far, but this stretch of the Turnpike takes a while to negotiate anyway. Also, there are a lot of Ohio drivers on the Turnpike. Bad news. After you've dealt with that, you are dumped onto the Parkway which is conveniently under construction all the way to Churchill. During much of the day, this makes it nearly impassable, or at the very least a bit frustrating.

Do the same Turnpike thing, but take Old William Penn from Monroeville to Churchill: This allows you to laugh at the people on the Parkway who aren't going anywhere, unless it itself is backed up. I once spent 45 minutes on this route. It does dump you on the Parkway again right after the construction ends, which is great, and you can also stop at Udipi (which I'm told is amazing) for some Indian food because it's on the way there. But it's not the easiest path to navigate if you've never done it before, and is still subject to horrifying backups.

Could you imagine if there were a fourth option? Maybe it'd go something like this.

You get on Route 30 and drive to the Greengate plaza where Wal-Mart is located. You park in the lot of a light rail terminal, and get on a train that runs parallel to Route 30, which for $10 per trip takes you all the way to Pittsburgh in 50 minutes. Know what you do for that entire time? Whatever you can carry with you that doesn't disturb others.

Unless you have very specific mobility requirements in terms of timing or you have a lot to carry with you, given those options it's pretty evident which one is most appealing.

I know Pittsburgh's a small city, but it's a large metropolitan area which is plagued, in terms of transit, by its sprawling nature. That is compounded by the constant decay of the roads and the relatively few vehicular arteries into the city. Ever tried taking 51 into Pittsburgh from the South Hills? It's hell. From each direction, there is more or less only one large (sometimes not even that large) road that enters the city. There's also not a lot of space to put more large roads in place to supplement them. We need to look at alternatives.

Every once in a while someone starts talking about light rail lines into the city. I think we should invest in a full-out Metro system, whereby light rail travels above-ground into Pittsburgh from points as far away as Latrobe, and upon entering the city descends below-ground to become a subway system. DC and Boston have awesome examples of a system like this operational right now, and there is no shortage of riders. Even if the system doesn't make money in itself, the economic loss of traffic jams is incredible, and reducing it could provide a lot of benefits that may now be difficult to estimate.

I think we should run trains down the US 30 corridor from Latrobe, down US 22 from Murrysville, down 28 from New Kensington, from Cranberry to Pittsburgh, from the Airport to the city, and we should attach it all to the already-present line that runs from the South Hills to the Pittsburgh.

I know it's a hard push to make in a cash-strapped city with a population so used to driving their cars places that they may be difficult to convince to get on a train, but with the right sort of advertising this investment could turn Pittsburgh into a city that is much more respectable by national standards, and much more accessible to locals and tourists. In the end, it would make it a lot easier for people to go to Pittsburgh to spend money, ergo local business thrives, etc.

So why aren't they doing this?

Oh, and I know we have buses. But I've heard from numerous reliable sources that they're a joke. I think a caveat to this plan should be that the Port Authority should have nothing to do with it.

The view will get you laid (and nine other reasons to go to Mount Washington)

1: The view is more romantic than anything you're likely to think of before your next date.

2: It's free to park there at night.

3: It's really easy to get there.

4: The (usually) quiet and the view combined have a way of prompting great conversation.

5: If you have a steady hand, it can be a great way to get your camera some exercise.

6: It can easily be combined with a trip on the incline, which makes it also easily combined with a trip to Station Square.

7: It's a nice way to ease your way out of a fear of heights.

8: If your attempt to use the view for romantic purposes doesn't work out, it offers sweet relief from that feeling of rejection with only one jump.

9: You can use it to scout out other things you want to see in the city. Also it gives you an understanding of where things are in relation to one another in a city that is very difficult to mentally map from ground level.

10: It's a quintessential part of the Pittsburgh experience. If you have lived here for any amount of time, you need to have done it.

Why is it so got-damn cold?!

You might have heard this question. Maybe the cashier at Giant Iggle asked you. Maybe it was some homeless guy on the street right before he asked you for that cigarette you didn't have. Maybe it was you asking yourself while trying to make that jacket that looks like October but doesn't work when outside it feels like January wrap around your body twice. I myself only recently got out of the I'm-going-to-wear-a-t-shirt-because-it's-still-t-shirt-time denial I had been in. I remember well the moment when I plopped into my car, blinking away last night's hangover before a guaranteed-to-be-painful morning shift, and the seat-back sucked away every bit of human warmth my body contained, turning me into no more than a hung-over corpse wearing a name tag that says "Dave."

For the last two days, we've been teased. It got nice again... ish. The sun was shining today and it actually meant something by it this time.

Don't get used to it.

Some friends of mine from Wuhan (lauded as the furnace of China) are in Pittsburgh and the surrounding area teaching Chinese this year. They asked me before they even got on the plane: "Should I bring warm clothing?"

"Yes, yes you should. Bring more of it than anything else."

And a few weeks ago, y'know, before it even got below sixty, they told me "Wow, it's so cold here!"

"Cold? You haven't seen cold. Wait a few months."

My roommate Pedro is fresh out of João Pessoa, Brazil. That's like, really close to the equator. Hasn't even been in the states long enough to have seen a winter here. He told us (other roommate and myself) "I sort of like the cold."

Sure you do.

You keep saying that.

The boy has never seen snow in his life.

This is the average temperature chart for João Pessoa.
Wish you were there yet?
Think Pedro really will like the cold?

So I guess my point is that we're not alone in our loathing of the cold here. At least we're expecting it, though. Some people don't even know what to expect. I guess at least that means they won't dread it as much.

When did you finally dig out the jacket?

PennDOT Problem Solving

If you've ever traveled down the parkway from anywhere east of Pittsburgh, you've undoubtedly noticed this structure:
Does anything seem a little bizarre about this to you? Where else in the world would they have a bridge that starts falling down, so they put nets on it to catch the debris, but then the nets didn't do enough, so instead of, say, FIXING THE BRIDGE, they build a little structure to catch the falling debris?! Only in PA.

This fellow here has an interesting and amusing idea of how exactly the story went for this.

But, y'know, I haven't noticed this for a while. Are they finally replacing it? I don't know what the bridge is called, so I can't look it up, but I know they took one out entirely and are replacing it. I hope this is the one.

Wrlenrllkkom tog Pitetsbkrrh!

We all know Pittsburgh is a very idiosyncratic little city. We're generally pretty proud of the little things that make us seem absolutely bizarre to those outside our little valley in the mountains, like the bizarre post-German vernacular that a lot of our residents, even those without a drop of German blood, vomit on a daily basis. I guess that's why we haven't bothered to correct the blinking light on top of the Grant building. We love too much to bask in the glory of our own imperfection (and really, there's nothing wrong with that. It's just what we do.) to take something so hilariously incorrect and make it right. If we took ourselves that seriously, we might start looking at some of those bigger cities with good mass transit and populations over a million and get jealous. And who wants to be jealous? Better to be the awkward fat kid who's 100% comfortable with exactly who he is. We rock the awkward fat kid style.

Anyway, what's wrong with the Grant building? Unless you paid a lot of attention in Boy Scouts (or to the Post-Gazette,) it's probably never occurred to you at all, but there's a building in the Pittsburgh skyline (admittedly not even one of the principal ones) that has a little light atop it that blinks in morse code.

It's that one.

When it was being designed, it was common for a building in a given city's skyline to spell out the city's name in morse code. Back before fancy things like GPS, aviators needed a means of having some idea where they were. And they couldn't just GIS the city from their iPhone and find out "Oh, that one looks like Pittsburgh!" So ideally, this light at the top of the Grant building would slowly spell out "P-I-T-T-S-B-U-R-G-H" to aid the lost flyboy.

But like so many other things here, it's just not quite right. Nobody knows exactly when it failed to spell the right word, but at some point the beacon started mistakenly informing folks that they're in the city of "Pitetsbkrrh." Say it out loud a few times! PITETSBKRRH. It's fun.

I think other cities should follow suit. Soon you could fly over Sean Fritskrrrhsiscogh or Hkrroustbrn or Karnsks Citrrrhy. Cleveland might even change theirs to "Pittsburgh" just to give itself a self-esteem boost.

Correction:

Breath: noun.
Breathe: verb.
Alright: All wrong (except in cases of dialogue, IMHO)
All right: Okay!
You're: You are.
Your: Second person possessive.
There: A place.
Their: Third person plural possessive.
They're: They are.
Its: Third person neuter possessive.
It's: It is.
's: IN EVERY CASE BUT THE ABOVE: Possessive. That means NEVER PLURAL. EVER. Except in increasingly archaic use with acronyms.
You: Shouldn't have made these mistakes since third grade.

Want to see Pittsburgh actually "revive"?

With G20 having rolled through the city, all kinds of talk went around about why the G20 was invited to the city in the first place. I though probably because it's really close to Nemacolin. The official words from President Obama went something like "Blah blah blah revitalization blah blah."

That's a word that's been flying around a lot when Pittsburgh comes up. Some people rave about it, claiming that Pittsburgh is undergoing some sort of rust-belt renaissance, while others are more skeptical.

Regardless of whether you think things are going up, down, around, upside-down, or a mysterious as-yet-undefined direction called only "Dennis" by theoretical physicists, I can tell you one thing that won't "revitalize" Pittsburgh. And I'm going to explain why you should be aghast, offended, and outraged that it's even present. Because you as a Pittsburgher were not ever consulted before your city was violated.

I'm talking about something that probably doesn't even cross your mind on a regular basis, but it represents a big pile of wrongness festering in neon splendor on the north shore of the Ohio river. A wound into which money falls and never truly returns, inflicted by the "you pat my back and I'll pat yours" connections that city government has with anyone who has a significant amount of money. The economic welfare of some of the people of our city was sold to Don Barden and Neil Bluhm in order to finance a new arena and provide projected tax revenue.

At face value, at least the tax revenue idea doesn't seem so bad, but if you look at what people at different income levels spend on gambling, it's effectively a voluntary and highly regressive tax. That is to say, low- and middle-income people spend much more on gambling as a percentage of income than the rich do. So money that would otherwise be spent on something useful, or at least some sort of manufactured product (which inevitably will employ more people than casino operation), is thrown down into a hole where it ends up mostly in the hands of a few wealthy individuals (after all, casinos are guaranteed profits) and the county.

This issue is compounded by the fact that many casino patrons are elderly folks who are on incomes provided by Social Security. That means there are people using money that you paid in the form of taxes to the federal government, and it is eventually ending up going into machines that are programmed not to give it back. There is a certain amount of time you spend at work because old people want to sit in front of machines and fart on stools while effectively lighting dollar bills on fire, in the name of "entertainment."

"Programmed not to give it back?" Of course! Gambling is, by nature of what it is, a zero-sum game at best. As soon as cost of equipment, licensing, and maintenance of the system is added to that model, it becomes a negative-sum game. That is, if you play enough it is inevitable that you will put more money into it than you got out. You are guaranteed to lose a majority of the time. Make it a for-profit business and you just make it even less likely that your patrons will go home any richer than they arrived. The highly addictive nature of gambling just makes it even worse: People rarely quit while they're ahead.

What does this mean? Think about this: If 500 people go, spend an average of $20 and get an average of $5 back, that is $7500 daily that is taken out of the local economy (except a pittance paid to casino staff. You know Barden and Bluhm aren't spending it here, they're investing it in their next big scam [that is, aside from the money going to the new Penguins arena.]) Yearly, that is almost 2.75 million dollars that will never see the light of day in Pittsburgh again. And I'm sure that's a conservative estimate. Then we could even talk about the additional law enforcement attention that casinos require, and the crime that frequently surrounds them, in terms of economic cost. Crime and enforcement are both expensive.

So my point is that if the powers that be in Pittsburgh really cared about its revitalization, they might have exercised some restraint in deciding whether to put a casino here. I just hope the people will exercise some restraint in terms of how much money they sink into false hope and golden dreams. Or maybe casino proceeds can be used entirely to fund healthcare for the old people who spend their money there. As long as there's someone with no interest in the welfare of our city running it, the casino is just a bleeding sore on the north shore. (See? Lookit, I rhymed!)

Get out your camera!

It's fall. Time to take a step back and appreciate something that has probably become purely mundane to you, the seasoned Pittsburgh resident. There's something in your everyday life this time of year that, if you can take your eyes off the back of the Buick keeping you 10 miles per hour below the speed limit for long enough, is purely stunning to behold.

Sometimes, when I'm on my couch with my Powerbook slowly cooking my thighs while I refresh Facebook for the thousandth futile time, I feel like I live in one of the most boring parts of the country. My friends are busy, I've got nothing to do for free and as a student no money to do anything else, and using Facebook is doing its job as the greatest demotivating factor in my life. In these situations, usually I just rot on my couch for a while, but if my restlessness grows strong enough, during the Fall I've got another option.

Because even though it may feel like this is one of the most boring places in the country (and if you really think that you've never been to Upper-Peninsula Michigan [and neither have I, but come on, what happens there?]) this is also one of the most beautiful places in the country. It's true! Don't believe me? Look:
We live in the "Perfect Storm" for autumn beauty. Pittsburgh has expansive rural areas within a short distance of town, hilly terrain that affords occasional breathtaking views (including proximity to a major mountain range), almost exclusively deciduous forests, and fall weather that is tolerable enough to actually go out and enjoy it.

If you're bored one day, take a drive out to the Laurel Highlands. As you're going out Route 22 or 30 to the east of the city, you'll notice the ridge in the distance. Once you get there (it's farther away than you think, because it's pretty big,) just get off the highway and get lost in the windy mountain roads. While you're there you're sure to happen upon some gorgeous places. Go to any of the tons of parks that are part of the Laurel Highlands area. Some of them afford incredible views of absolutely groovy scenery. Load up your digital camera and come back unable to decide which of the images you want to put on your Desktop.

If you want to stay closer to home, there are some areas inside Pittsburgh that also afford these opportunities. A local favorite is Allegheny Cemetery. An oasis of calm and trees right next to Lawrenceville, the Cemetery offers tons of photography opportunities. Some of the areas in Oakland around the Cathedral of Learning aren't bad either. And there's also Schenley Park.

So I guess my point is if you're bored on one of these chilly Fall days, don't let the weather get you down. Grab your coat and your camera and possibly a friend, and go have an adventure.

URGENT BULLETIN: PITTSBURGH IS STILL IN THE NORTH

And 1865 was 144 years ago.

Confused? What I'm trying to say is that this:is racist.

A problem not generally associated with "Pittsburgh: the City of," the Confederate Flag thing is spreading in the lower-middle-class suburbs like AIDS in a room full of Catholic nymphomaniac heroin addicts. The people of rural and suburban SWPA (Southwestern Pennsylvania) are just eating it up! That's why I think it's important to post here a little review of some basic facts.

• Pennsylvania is north of the Mason-Dixon line. This means that we were a Union state back in the Civil War. If you live here, you're a "northerner."
• The last time the Confederate Flag was relevant to any existing political body (aside from some state governments) was 1865. That year, a surrender was signed at Appomattox Courthouse and the Confederate States of America was dissolved.
  
• The Civil Rights movement already happened. Our president (like him or not) is half-black. Racial equality isn't here yet, unfortunately, but racism itself is generally accepted by society as one of the most loathsome qualities a citizen of our fair country can have. That is to say, it doesn't make you look so good.

There is no clear, compelling reason that publicly celebrating institutionalized racism should be even remotely acceptable. Of course, some would have you think that they display the "rebel flag" because they support states' rights and decentralized government. Sadly, Johnny Reb, this also hasn't been relevant to the United States government for over 100 years. It's not a debate anymore. Hamilton and the Federalists won, albeit many years after their deaths, and the end result is that the federal government has the power to override just about anything the states do. And have you seen most state governments anyway? Especially our very own. The corruption is simply astronomical. If you want a strong nation (especially militarily, which seems to be important to you redneck types), then you want power to be more centralized than it might be under the Confederate ideal.

This idea of "The South will rise again!" is purely, simply, bullshit. That is, feces that come from a big ol' cow. There is no sense to it, it's got no relevance whatsoever to today's world, and the sentiment should be punishable by a hard smack to the back of the head. We are one nation, and to wish anything else is as counterproductive an un-American as you can get. If you really "support the troops" and if you really are as patriotic as you think you are, then you should probably not advocate the destruction of your own country. Duh.

And how do you think it feels to be a black person and see people proudly and prominently displaying the symbol of your own oppression? I don't roll around with a big "I'd like to enslave everyone who's been to a truck pull!" flag on my Civic. Why? Because it's asinine and I'm sure truck pulls are actually pretty entertaining.

Put them away. If you're reading this and you have a Confederate Flag on display somewhere, really, truly think about why you have it there and what its impact might be. Sure, it's your right, but I'd like to think that most people are good and most people who do that just aren't thinking about what the actual implications are. If you're really from the South, I'm sure there are better ways of expressing your pride in it. If you're actually from Pittsburgh then how about a big ol' Stillers flag? There's no harm in that.

Gee... twenty?

It says "G20 Leaders: Think of the Bears."

No, it doesn't have anything to do with Mattresses.

Last post, for those of you who were paying attention, I mentioned the Mattress Factory.

When I'm on the road, staring at the back of a Buick whose elderly driver in a fit of senile dementia forgot how to press down with her right foot, and I'm cursing my unwilling status as a citizen of this region, I just think about the Mattress Factory and I realize it's not all that bad. And a large elderly population is a problem that solves itself anyway. (Too mean? I'm sorry. I love my grandparents dearly and they're local, but seriously, we need to give away some old people or something.)

Every time I ask someone if they want to go with me to the Mattress Factory their first question is "Why would I ever care about how they make mattresses?" Then I dig my grave even deeper by saying "Oh, it's nothing to do with mattresses at all. It's a modern art installation museum."

Lame! That's what you're thinking. You just pictured a collection of pretentious, beret-sporting hipsters talking about their avant-garde use of the rectangle and the color orange. And they don't even know how to name their museum! Maybe we should just go to the Warhol instead.

Don't you dare. Warhol's massively overrated (My piano teacher was in his graduating class. She said he was an asshole.) and the Mattress Factory could easily be one of the coolest places in Pittsburgh.

Have you ever been at the mall, trying on something a little fancier than what you normally wear, and looked into one of those mirrors that shows your body from different angles? Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be in a room that has walls and ceilings consisting only of mirrors, watching reflections extend into infinity in all directions? Well, for a student rate of $7, you can experience this along with a bunch of other exhibits that offer experiences you'll never find at any other museum. It will leave you, even as someone who couldn't name a contemporary artist if you tried, with the sensation that you're having a great time.

Another great thing about the MF is that is has great value as a place to which you can return over and over. Only one out of five floors has exhibits that remain the same year-round. Every few months, the rest of the exhibits change. It's because the Mattress Factory is actually an organization that gives residencies to some of the best up-and-coming artists in the country (sometimes world) and allows them to create their projects and display them for a while, before cycling in a new group. Even the permanent exhibits are great to return to with Mattress Factory virgins, because it's hilarious to watch them try to figure out exactly what's going on (like one piece, which appears to be a purple square projected onto the wall, but turns out to be an open hole into another room when you get closer to it.)

So go there. Do it this weekend. It's on the Northside... you can google the directions from the address they provide on their site. You were just going to go get drunk on the Southside again anyway, and you can just do this beforehand. Unless you're an absolutely uninspired lump of sod, you'll enjoy it. And you're not. Nobody is.

What do we make here?

Fellow Pittsburghers, crisis has been averted. The large glowing orb in the sky that threatened us with good spirits and the capacity to enjoy some time outside has again returned behind the much more familiar shroud of grey clouds. We were at risk of having what some might call "nice weather" but fortunately the rain has returned. I'm sure you almost forgot where you were. I almost did, too.

A friend of mine who lives out in Robinson Township found this a while ago. It's some 54-year-old Pittsburgher's rant about everything he hates about the Pittsburgh area. It may be one of the most negative things I've ever read, and I personally disagree with some aspects of it, but there are other parts of it that make me want to say "H'ayyyyyyymen, brothah! Go an' tell it from the mountain-ah!" Like my favorite line from the whole rant, a rare gem because this fellow doesn't really have much expertise in terms of composition, where he says "Downright mind-numbing DEPRESSION is the only product manufactured [here.]"

And it's true, of course. We're second only to Seattle for rainfall. We fall just behind Buffalo for cloudy days. If you're the kind of person who thrives on sunny days, this is not a great place to be. In fact, this is a mind-numbingly depressing place to be in that regard. But what I really love about this statement is the way it combines this truth with the other shameful truth of the area. Once we were a powerhouse of economic production, but now we're just another shamed rust-belt relic, our population deflated and our factories closed. Pittsburgh is not depressing just because of the weather, but because it's a poignant reminder that our best days are currently behind us, as far as we know. It's a reminder that we live in a country that doesn't make much of anything anymore. It is a monument to the absolute unsustainability of American society. While the mainstream media tells us to be "self-reliant" (after all, anything else is Socialism, don't'cha know?) we live in a country that is the exact opposite of self-reliant. But I digress. (That's right, I used a cliché. Can you handle that?)

I sort of take issue with the author of this rant, though, when he says in effect that the art scene in Pittsburgh is weak at best. It's simply not true... for the scale of our city, we have an unusual profusion of arts organizations. The Mattress Factory for example... There are also tons of theatre organizations, and the Pittsburgh music scene has produced a lot of bands that have gone on to be famous.

I guess what this guy proves in the end is that it's very easy to get and hold a negative impression of our fair city. At first blush it does appear purely terrible. The weather is awful, and if you don't already have friends here, good luck finding something to do. The idea of transportation here is staring at the back of a Buick that's never seen top gear under the able command of someone who should have had his license revoked 10 years ago when he turned 80 and cursing the day you were born. And if you don't have a car, good luck getting anywhere. Like the Pirate's code was to Captain Barbossa, the Port Authority's schedule is more like "guidelines" and you can easily find yourself stranded in a place where you can't walk anywhere you might be able to stay.

But if you dig a bit, there are little pockets of groovitude all around. Especially if you like to eat... And no, I'm not talking about the culinary abomination that is Primanti's... I'm talking about places like Tram's Kitchen (awesome and inexpensive Vietnamese food) or the Silk Elephant or Max's Allegheny Tavern or any of the little Pita carts that hang around Oakland. There are some awesome museums, bike and walking trails everywhere, and the surrounding area has some of the most beautiful scenery in the United States, if I do say so myself, especially in Fall. Look in the City Paper or the Post Gazette (Don't read the Trib... it pollutes your mind. I think it's part of our area's problem, actually.) and you'll find pages of events and activities and things to do.

So that's where I'll leave you now, because that's the sort of thing I'll be talking about in the future. Until next time.

(Oh, yeah, that guy who's the devil, that's Richard Mellon Scaife, owner of the Tribune Review. If you see him, say something nasty to him for me.)

"I'm sorry, I'm terrible with names..."

It's what my blog is saying to you right now... If you leave a comment, it'll remember, but otherwise I'm afraid this blog will forget your name. Don't be too offended. Google's servers will have logged your IP address, so there will be some token of having met you still there, but names just don't stick the same way.

You've happened upon a blog which I intend to use for a few purposes. Probably the most important of those purposes is the one that gets me a nice pretty "A" on my transcripts to make this final semester look good enough that anyone who's looking at said transcripts doesn't flip back into the dark days of yore where "D"s, withdrawals, and potentially dragons reside.

But there are other purposes. After all, to do a good enough job to make that shiny "A" appear, I'd have to care at least a little bit about what I was doing. I'm going to try to care more than a little bit, even. I've been doing this internet-writing thing for a while now, which means I probably enjoy it, so I'd like to continue doing so here and now.

But I've never needed a topic before. It used to be, all I had to do was make something funny. Go to Clunkline.com. It's not all mine, but it's funny, and some of it is mine. It's also often horridly offensive. By nature of my personality, this blog will probably end up being that way whether or not I intended it to. Especially given the topic I've chosen.

"Dave, I'm very impressed by how much you like to talk about yourself, but what's the topic you've chosen?" Is that what you were thinking? Probably not. But for the sake of argument, I'm going to assume you were asking that question.

This blog aspires to be a catalog of the musings, experiences, and discoveries of a young person trying to keep his head above the sea of elderly folk so he can breathe without choking on Ben Gay, Pall Mall smoke, and conservatism. It's not going to be all about old people, though, that's just one distinguishing feature of Southwestern Pennsylvania (Greater Pittsburgh, if you will).

The point is, I was born in Monroeville. I grew up in the shadow of the USX tower, but I've also lived in Wuhan, China, and Jersey (the new one, not the island in the English Channel), which gives me some perspective on the area but still makes me, both proudly and tragically, a Pittsburgher. And that's exactly it: I need a catharsis for this horrid ambivalence I've got toward my hometown. And I'm going to try to do it in a way that helps other young people here try to ignore that feeling being surrounded by dying people and a dying economy and get a new lease on this place we call "home."

So, you two have been introduced. I'm not sure why I've written this introductory post, because it'll just end up buried under a mountain of posts the same way Khrushchev said the Soviet Union would bury our amber waves of grain, purple mountains' majesty, etc., but here it stands, a monument to inutility and an excuse to write a post without needing any real content.

Five Things （五个东西）

 So... it was difficult for me to think of five things that I really truly like.  I'm one of those people who has a terrible habit of thinking too much about things he doesn't like.  Regardless, here's a list, followed by a few pros and cons for each one.

China: Mentioned this in my last post.  Pros: I really truly do like it and I spend a lot of time thinking about it and doing things that are related to it.  My girlfriend is even Chinese (though she's obviously in the states right now).  Cons: I spend a lot of time talking about it already, people are probably sick of hearing about it from me, and I don't even know what I'd write about given that topic.

Curry: I love to cook, and almost any cuisine that can be defined as a curry is something I find incredibly delicious, to the point where sometimes it gives me a mild euphoria.  Pros: I absolutely and unequivocally love curry, and it's even something about which I'd like to learn more.  Cons: Seems like it'd be a boring topic, analyzing different mixtures of spices and recipes.  Not very reader-friendly, too much of a niche topic that can't be easily adapted to inspire interest in others.

Tea: I've been drinking various good loose teas and sampling different kinds of tea for more than 5 years.  A lot of people say "I'm into tea" and it means they've bought a box of teabags that doesn't say "Red Rose" on it.  When I say "I'm into tea" it means I've tried many different varieties from many different places and can describe to you the characteristics of most of them.  I'm still not an expert, but I'm more serious about it than the people who just do it because it's trendy.  Pros: It's a comfort drink, people love hearing about things like that, and it can be tied into life in a lot of ways to keep the subject matter interesting.  Cons: There are almost as many blogs about tea online as there are pictures of people's cats.  Not original.  

Driving: Some people view driving as a chore, a necessary evil to get where they're going.  I see driving as a place for me to gain the benefits of solitude, freedom, and on rare occasions adrenaline.  I've put almost 50,000 miles on my car since November 2007, and taken it such places as Ottawa, Charleston, SC, Montréal, the Outer Banks, and Boston.  I also have very strong opinions about how other people drive, and what they drive.  And I will not drive a car with less than three pedals unless I must.  Pros: I do it every day, it's a big part of my life, almost anyone can identify with it.  I also have a lot of opinions about it.  Cons: I think a lot of the things I'd say would either offend people or be considered really trivial.  

Having a love-hate relationship with Western Pennsylvania: I've lived here all but two years and two months of my life, and being a young person here presents a lot of challenges.  It makes it a pretty terrible place to be, in a lot of ways.  Even so, the Pittsburgh area also has a lot of hidden pockets of greatness that makes me horridly ambivalent about the whole area.  Pros: There's a lot of material for this, because our region is such an idiosyncratic one.  I also think about it a lot, and talk about it a lot, so I'd develop ideas for it well.  Cons: There's a lot of potential for the blog to be a big ball of negativity on the internet.  Even though I call it a "love-hate" relationship, my main impetus is to get the hell out of here, and that could easily shine through in my writing to the point where it wouldn't be fun to read anymore.

All about who?

It's difficult for someone like me to answer such a broad question as "Think of something you absolutely love." I always have trouble unequivocally declaring my love for just about anything: There are always good sides and bad sides to any thing or concept. It's the reason I will never get a tattoo. There is nothing in this world that I love so much that I would get it permanently inked into my body... I'm always changing my mind about things and I'd be a sure candidate for tattoo regret. Even the few things I am pretty serious about liking are things that aren't easily defined and would generally make terrible blog topics. For instance, I strongly believe in trimming unnecessary complexity out of any system. This demonstrates itself in a few ways (I refuse to own a car with an automatic transmission or power windows, for instance), none of which lend themselves to any sort of reading that anybody but myself would enjoy. Who wants to hear about the inefficiency of the torque converter when most people would just rather be able to talk on the phone while they drive? It's the kind of thing you only mention to someone when asked.

Even so, about this time last year something crept into my life that has changed almost everything about that life since I first started paying any attention to it. I can't promise it will be the topic of my blog in the end (in fact, it almost certainly will not), but it is definitely a large part of my life nonetheless.  

It started sometime in Spring semester of 2008. I was putting together my schedule for the next Fall, happily avoiding Algebra and Public Speaking and all of those classes that I had been avoiding for the past three years but knew would inevitably become my bane during my last semester (which, incidentally, is what they are now doing). Instead of getting one of those requirements out of the way, my eye was struck by one of the options in the "new classes" section of the catalog. For the first time ever, UPG was offering Chinese. Given my easily-obtained fluency in French, I figured Chinese would be a great grade booster and a path to 5 credits of easy As for me. So, I chose to enroll in the class more or less entirely on a whim.  

The beginning of the Fall semester rolled around after a dull summer which included (in no particular order) a pretty serious breakup, an introduction to generalized anxiety disorder, and a lot of work.  

Needless to say, the beginning of the school year and the return of all my college friends to Greensburg, my reluctantly-accepted home year-round was very, very welcome when it came.  

The beginning of Chinese class itself was not especially thrilling, but as I grew more familiar with the basics of the language, the learning process was captivating and enjoyable. Despite the relatively early hour of the class, I found myself driven to show up to it.  Sometime during the next semester, a lady came and gave us a presentation on some study abroad program. The idea of traveling interested me a lot, but it was difficult for me to find the opportunity to do so because of my living situation. Still, her presentation got me into the idea of figuring out how to actually go about doing so. I got really excited about the program she was offering (which just proves that she was a good salesperson), but upon further research I discovered that that particular program was absurdly expensive. Undaunted, I looked into other options and eventually settled on the Pitt in China program through our fair university.What I then found out almost killed my ambitions immediately. Evidently, the application deadline was over a month ago. Still, though I considered it a long shot, I called the study abroad office to see if I could squeeze myself in.  As it turns out, earlier the exact same day that I called, someone had dropped from the program. If I believed in fate, fortune, or anything like that, this would have confirmed my belief.  After a lot of e-mails and paperwork, I finally got to travel. I'm going to truncate things a bit here because I'm really running out of steam on the whole thing. Suffice to say that the two months during which I lived in Wuhan were, despite a violent and confusing breakup (with the same girl as the summer before [fool me once...]) and constant diarrhea, two of the best months of my life. It was an absolutely unparalleled experience that really solidified a lot of plans that were prior to that ephemeral dreams in my head. The bustle of progress surrounding me gave me the undeniable sense that I had to return to that place. While I was there, I began to research exactly how I could do that, and the results of that research govern my plans for the future to this day.  Despite all of this, though the subject may creep into other things about which I blog, China will almost definitely not be the topic of my blog for this class. I don't know what I'd write about it and I still don't have enough authority on it to really write something useful about it.