H/T to the nytpicker for this one regarding Friedman's rant of yesterday:
"We suppose it's possible that Friedman's mind produced the same sequence of words, the same constructions and the same ideas, revised only slightly to make his point this morning.
But we also think it's possible -- we'll even go so far as to say, likely -- that Friedman cut and pasted the paragraph from his previous column and tweaked it slightly for today's piece."
Monday, September 28, 2009
When I was your age
Nearly two weeks ago the Thursday Styles section included an exploration of the apparent spate of celebrity deaths this summer: MJ, Farah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, John Hughes, Ted Kennedy, Walter Cronkite, Patrick Swayze... The fact is, the number of celebrity deaths was unremarkable, but they included several icons of the boomer set, "the legends that defined them as a tribe," wrote Sarah Kershaw*. They're observing the passing of their generation, an omen of their their own, personal mortality. Naturally, this inspires nostalgia. A remembrance of a time when celebrities were respected and respectable, when the world was a simpler place, so on and so forth.
Kershaw doesn't thoroughly examine this nostalgia, which of course depends on an ideal of the past as much as problematic identification with a United States at a particular historical juncture. One can nearly hear her representative boomers kvetching over the many imagined failings of this generation, whatever we're calling it.
So the boomers are trying to correct these failings, she says, throwing in quotes from Marc Freedman, who is writing a book about seniors pursuing philanthropy after retiring. “I think this is the first time so many have simultaneously had an awareness of death and the prospect of a whole new act,” Mr. Freedman said. According to Kershaw, the role models for this "Generation E" (E for encore, as in second act; as in, a really lame phrasing) include Bill Gates, Al Gore, and Bill Clinton. Role models, maybe, but representative? Not at all. This book sounds like baloney. I predict a weak thesis, a lazy use of stats, and a bunch of half-assed profiles of retired insurance executives and museum admins who've started after school programs teaching inner city kids to analyze ballet. (Actually, that might be a cool program. Nevertheless, the book does not sound promising.)
Anyway, Kershaw's article is baloney-esque, as well. She's cobbled together some "expert" quotes around an undeveloped idea regarding all these old important people dying. In any event, she noted that statistically speaking, the boomers should live until about 83, thanks to modern health care. Which reminds me of the suspicion with which many boomers view health care reform (after all, they've got coverage already, for the most part). I've seen plenty of their age set on the wrong side of those town meeting clips on Youtube. Nostalgia, after all, is part of the fear of cultural change that animates the tea baggers. No disrespect to the boomers, by any means; I'm just saying that a fear that the world is getting worse can inspire good works and bad.
UPDATE: Thankfully, Freedman will have to find a new term for his philanthropic retirees. NYT reporter Andrew Revkin has called dibs. For him, E means energy and the environment (possibly equity and enterprise, too, 'cause why not), which somehow binds the current group of young'ns.
*I just noticed that Ms. Kershaw is co-author of July's article about the dangers of pot (oh me oh my!), part of an uptick in ganja news coverage that I'll discuss about in an impending post.
Kershaw doesn't thoroughly examine this nostalgia, which of course depends on an ideal of the past as much as problematic identification with a United States at a particular historical juncture. One can nearly hear her representative boomers kvetching over the many imagined failings of this generation, whatever we're calling it.
So the boomers are trying to correct these failings, she says, throwing in quotes from Marc Freedman, who is writing a book about seniors pursuing philanthropy after retiring. “I think this is the first time so many have simultaneously had an awareness of death and the prospect of a whole new act,” Mr. Freedman said. According to Kershaw, the role models for this "Generation E" (E for encore, as in second act; as in, a really lame phrasing) include Bill Gates, Al Gore, and Bill Clinton. Role models, maybe, but representative? Not at all. This book sounds like baloney. I predict a weak thesis, a lazy use of stats, and a bunch of half-assed profiles of retired insurance executives and museum admins who've started after school programs teaching inner city kids to analyze ballet. (Actually, that might be a cool program. Nevertheless, the book does not sound promising.)
Anyway, Kershaw's article is baloney-esque, as well. She's cobbled together some "expert" quotes around an undeveloped idea regarding all these old important people dying. In any event, she noted that statistically speaking, the boomers should live until about 83, thanks to modern health care. Which reminds me of the suspicion with which many boomers view health care reform (after all, they've got coverage already, for the most part). I've seen plenty of their age set on the wrong side of those town meeting clips on Youtube. Nostalgia, after all, is part of the fear of cultural change that animates the tea baggers. No disrespect to the boomers, by any means; I'm just saying that a fear that the world is getting worse can inspire good works and bad.
UPDATE: Thankfully, Freedman will have to find a new term for his philanthropic retirees. NYT reporter Andrew Revkin has called dibs. For him, E means energy and the environment (possibly equity and enterprise, too, 'cause why not), which somehow binds the current group of young'ns.
*I just noticed that Ms. Kershaw is co-author of July's article about the dangers of pot (oh me oh my!), part of an uptick in ganja news coverage that I'll discuss about in an impending post.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
A series of tubes
I've been waking up in strange places the past couple of days, forcing me to go without the printed paper and rely on the NYT website instead. Fortunately, it is early in the week, so when I get home at night and can finally start the crossword, I can actually finish it before turning it.
Speaking of the digital version, Jonathan Landman, the NYT deputy managing editor and digital journalism honcho, is moving back to the culture editor desk, a position he held once before in 2004 to 2005. Since I'm not in media, I had no idea who this character was, or why he looked like a high school English teacher. Most of what I learned about him since the move was announced on Monday is from the two "Talk to the Readers" Q&A segments that he did; most questions addressed digital journalism. His responses were thoughtful in both, though the first one, from 2006, seemed delightfully ancient. I believe the phrase "our new blog page" was used. New! God in Heaven. One interesting fact I didn't know is that they split up articles into multiple pages in order to produce more page views, and thus more advertising dollars. Savvy! Somewhat.
More important was his response in the 2006 Q&A (one of few not directly concerning digital journalism) about the audience of the Times from a reader bemoaning the publication of Emily Gould's infamous magazine cover story, among other things. "More and more, I have to weed out The Times, often throwing out the Style section, which has articles on clothes that I can't afford; the Travel section, which has articles about places I can't afford to visit, and the Dining section, which has articles on food too expensive to consume." I definitely agree, to an extent, and I think some of those articles (sections, even) exist to perpetuate a certain image of the NYT. Landman asserts that "Our readers are definitely well above average in affluence. They're also well educated, sophisticated, curious, critical and wide-ranging in their interests and tastes," and I'm sure he has some surveys to indicate this. But are these pieces newsworthy? I'm not always convinced. I also wonder how these lighter sections fare in the print/digital readership differential.
More relevant to my experience are his thoughts from 2006 about the lessening of editorial power in the digital version. Readers are freer to determine what they encounter; it's easier to ignore a headline than a whole article. This can be intentional (bypassing something you're not interested in or, more problematically, don't agree with) or subconscious. This latter tendency is why I prefer the print version. Online, I read the top headlines in most sections, maybe a few shorter pieces in the Science section, and a few City Room tidbits. But I don't tend to find the odd, often illuminating articles about things like Treece, KS (which I posted about on Monday). It's the frenetic nature of online reading. My browser has fifteen tabs open, including Gmail, HootSuite (to monitor multiple Twitter accounts), and someone's blog post on which I've been composing a comment for the past two hours; not to mention what non-Internet programs I've got going.
I force myself to slow down, to read an article all the way through in one go instead of stopping midway, checking Gmail and doing a Google image search for mouse lemur because Stephen Fry mentions something about it being the world's smallest primate, before returning to the article. Deliberately I scroll down each section page looking those articles that remind me how odd this world is. Without this strategy, I would never know that R. Allen Stanford needs a public defender. Now that's rich! In Texas, of all places. I don't know anything about their public defense system, but given the horrible state of their prisons, I would guess their PDs are incredibly overworked, underpaid, that whole bit, more than most states.
On the other hand, I'd have to wait until tomorrow to read in print that Linda McMahon, the wife of Vince McMahon and former CEO of the WWE, is seeking the Republican nomination to unseat Chris Dodd. WTF! Bring on the bodyslam/piledriver/whatever jokes.
Speaking of the digital version, Jonathan Landman, the NYT deputy managing editor and digital journalism honcho, is moving back to the culture editor desk, a position he held once before in 2004 to 2005. Since I'm not in media, I had no idea who this character was, or why he looked like a high school English teacher. Most of what I learned about him since the move was announced on Monday is from the two "Talk to the Readers" Q&A segments that he did; most questions addressed digital journalism. His responses were thoughtful in both, though the first one, from 2006, seemed delightfully ancient. I believe the phrase "our new blog page" was used. New! God in Heaven. One interesting fact I didn't know is that they split up articles into multiple pages in order to produce more page views, and thus more advertising dollars. Savvy! Somewhat.
More important was his response in the 2006 Q&A (one of few not directly concerning digital journalism) about the audience of the Times from a reader bemoaning the publication of Emily Gould's infamous magazine cover story, among other things. "More and more, I have to weed out The Times, often throwing out the Style section, which has articles on clothes that I can't afford; the Travel section, which has articles about places I can't afford to visit, and the Dining section, which has articles on food too expensive to consume." I definitely agree, to an extent, and I think some of those articles (sections, even) exist to perpetuate a certain image of the NYT. Landman asserts that "Our readers are definitely well above average in affluence. They're also well educated, sophisticated, curious, critical and wide-ranging in their interests and tastes," and I'm sure he has some surveys to indicate this. But are these pieces newsworthy? I'm not always convinced. I also wonder how these lighter sections fare in the print/digital readership differential.
More relevant to my experience are his thoughts from 2006 about the lessening of editorial power in the digital version. Readers are freer to determine what they encounter; it's easier to ignore a headline than a whole article. This can be intentional (bypassing something you're not interested in or, more problematically, don't agree with) or subconscious. This latter tendency is why I prefer the print version. Online, I read the top headlines in most sections, maybe a few shorter pieces in the Science section, and a few City Room tidbits. But I don't tend to find the odd, often illuminating articles about things like Treece, KS (which I posted about on Monday). It's the frenetic nature of online reading. My browser has fifteen tabs open, including Gmail, HootSuite (to monitor multiple Twitter accounts), and someone's blog post on which I've been composing a comment for the past two hours; not to mention what non-Internet programs I've got going.
I force myself to slow down, to read an article all the way through in one go instead of stopping midway, checking Gmail and doing a Google image search for mouse lemur because Stephen Fry mentions something about it being the world's smallest primate, before returning to the article. Deliberately I scroll down each section page looking those articles that remind me how odd this world is. Without this strategy, I would never know that R. Allen Stanford needs a public defender. Now that's rich! In Texas, of all places. I don't know anything about their public defense system, but given the horrible state of their prisons, I would guess their PDs are incredibly overworked, underpaid, that whole bit, more than most states.
On the other hand, I'd have to wait until tomorrow to read in print that Linda McMahon, the wife of Vince McMahon and former CEO of the WWE, is seeking the Republican nomination to unseat Chris Dodd. WTF! Bring on the bodyslam/piledriver/whatever jokes.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Best Word in the Times today
Chat: "pulverized rock laced with lead and iron."
Describing the landscape of Treece, Kansas, where kids play among mounds of this stuff. Treece is a town of 140 people who all want to leave. Great article by Susan Saulny about a horrible situation. The social and physical devastation of rampant pollution from years of mining. A lot of the iron, zinc and lead mined there ($20 billion worth, at one point) was used in WWII weapons factories, it seems. Treece was effectively one with neighboring Picher, Oklahoma, until the first of this month, when the latter ceased its official existence. The EPA determined it couldn't clean up Picher with everyone still there, so the feds bought out and relocated nearly all of the 1,800 residents that remained from a peak population of 20,000. In 1993, a third of children tested in Picher had enough lead in their blood to cause brain or nervous system damage. Somehow, they think they can clean up Treece without doing the same.
In the meantime, Treece sounds like a wasteland: socially and spiritually as well as environmentally.
"In addition to living in fear of lead and other poisons, they lost their stores, gas stations, some public services, jobs and their social outlet with the demise of Picher."
I can't imagine: 140 people, less than 10% of the combined towns, left to watch the houses of Picher crumble and decay, a scene soon to be joined by EPA clean-up crews and equipment. Google Maps says its a 1.8 mile drive between the centers of each town; if I remember trigonometry correctly, that's about 1.2 miles as the bird flies. Saulny writes of Picher: "Stray dogs wander. Faded signs announce places that are no longer there: the Picher Mining Museum, the Church of the Nazarene, and 24-hour truck stop."
Describing the landscape of Treece, Kansas, where kids play among mounds of this stuff. Treece is a town of 140 people who all want to leave. Great article by Susan Saulny about a horrible situation. The social and physical devastation of rampant pollution from years of mining. A lot of the iron, zinc and lead mined there ($20 billion worth, at one point) was used in WWII weapons factories, it seems. Treece was effectively one with neighboring Picher, Oklahoma, until the first of this month, when the latter ceased its official existence. The EPA determined it couldn't clean up Picher with everyone still there, so the feds bought out and relocated nearly all of the 1,800 residents that remained from a peak population of 20,000. In 1993, a third of children tested in Picher had enough lead in their blood to cause brain or nervous system damage. Somehow, they think they can clean up Treece without doing the same.
In the meantime, Treece sounds like a wasteland: socially and spiritually as well as environmentally.
"In addition to living in fear of lead and other poisons, they lost their stores, gas stations, some public services, jobs and their social outlet with the demise of Picher."
I can't imagine: 140 people, less than 10% of the combined towns, left to watch the houses of Picher crumble and decay, a scene soon to be joined by EPA clean-up crews and equipment. Google Maps says its a 1.8 mile drive between the centers of each town; if I remember trigonometry correctly, that's about 1.2 miles as the bird flies. Saulny writes of Picher: "Stray dogs wander. Faded signs announce places that are no longer there: the Picher Mining Museum, the Church of the Nazarene, and 24-hour truck stop."
Monday monday monday
Busy with errands all weekend, yet somehow none of them bore fruit. Neither did I post here at all, but now I'm back at work and trying to avoid that fact. Thus, a post...
In a strange way I really enjoy newspaper coverage of the decline of that industry. It's like they're writing their own obituaries. Sometimes I expect an article to end, "...and I've just been fired."
Today's Business Day section went over and above in this regard. While the big headline was about economic bubbles, 75% of the section spoke to the old/new media split, or transition depending on how you see it. Stephanie Clifford wrote about McGraw-Hill crossing its fingers that someone (anyone!) will take BusinessWeek off its hands despite massive losses. Severe layoffs haven't stemmed the weekly's increasing irrelevancy. It seems their most recent strategy change was to focus on serving their business executive audience, in other words "to help business leaders make more money." Wonder what they'd say about their own industry?
Claire Cain Miller focused on a blog network called Sugar Inc. to discuss organizational tendencies in new media and the redirection of ad dollars to the Internet. With blogs focusing on celeb gossip, trendy consumer goods and the like, they're ripe for advertisers. Ad revenue was up 20% for the first half of the year, and though they haven't turned a profit yet, they should by the end of this year. On the other hand, magazine ad revenue is going down the tubes.
Meanwhile, tomorrow a Philadelphia bankruptcy judge will decide whether ownership of The Philadelphia Inquirer and The Daily News will go to creditors or the local investors who bought the papers in 2006. The situation, of course, stems from the collapse of ad revenue for papers. Ironically, the downturn in their ad sales was one of the least severe in the industry, falling "only" a bit more than 40% since 2006.
As if giving themselves a pep talk, the Times tried to balance this out with a story by David Carr of a former journalist returning to the paper business. Thomas Moran was a politics columnist at Newark's The Star-Ledger until February 2008, when he left to become policy director of a holding company. Getting out of an industry on the brink (after a couple years of pay freezes), making more money in a stabler position, kids going to college soon; he had plenty of good reasons to do so. Anyway, within a week he hated it and started moping around the house, so he went back the first chance he got. Which is to prove, I guess, that papers are still hiring journalists and that, hey, journalism is cooler than a holding company. Perhaps, but this feels like the exception to prove the rule. I assume the pay freezes are still in place, if they haven't turned into cuts. Interesting description of "most" reporters as "attention-deprived adrenaline junkies who care only for the next story."
Second to that, my favorite part was the description of New Jersey as a "game preserve" of corruption.
In a strange way I really enjoy newspaper coverage of the decline of that industry. It's like they're writing their own obituaries. Sometimes I expect an article to end, "...and I've just been fired."
Today's Business Day section went over and above in this regard. While the big headline was about economic bubbles, 75% of the section spoke to the old/new media split, or transition depending on how you see it. Stephanie Clifford wrote about McGraw-Hill crossing its fingers that someone (anyone!) will take BusinessWeek off its hands despite massive losses. Severe layoffs haven't stemmed the weekly's increasing irrelevancy. It seems their most recent strategy change was to focus on serving their business executive audience, in other words "to help business leaders make more money." Wonder what they'd say about their own industry?
Claire Cain Miller focused on a blog network called Sugar Inc. to discuss organizational tendencies in new media and the redirection of ad dollars to the Internet. With blogs focusing on celeb gossip, trendy consumer goods and the like, they're ripe for advertisers. Ad revenue was up 20% for the first half of the year, and though they haven't turned a profit yet, they should by the end of this year. On the other hand, magazine ad revenue is going down the tubes.
Meanwhile, tomorrow a Philadelphia bankruptcy judge will decide whether ownership of The Philadelphia Inquirer and The Daily News will go to creditors or the local investors who bought the papers in 2006. The situation, of course, stems from the collapse of ad revenue for papers. Ironically, the downturn in their ad sales was one of the least severe in the industry, falling "only" a bit more than 40% since 2006.
As if giving themselves a pep talk, the Times tried to balance this out with a story by David Carr of a former journalist returning to the paper business. Thomas Moran was a politics columnist at Newark's The Star-Ledger until February 2008, when he left to become policy director of a holding company. Getting out of an industry on the brink (after a couple years of pay freezes), making more money in a stabler position, kids going to college soon; he had plenty of good reasons to do so. Anyway, within a week he hated it and started moping around the house, so he went back the first chance he got. Which is to prove, I guess, that papers are still hiring journalists and that, hey, journalism is cooler than a holding company. Perhaps, but this feels like the exception to prove the rule. I assume the pay freezes are still in place, if they haven't turned into cuts. Interesting description of "most" reporters as "attention-deprived adrenaline junkies who care only for the next story."
Second to that, my favorite part was the description of New Jersey as a "game preserve" of corruption.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Thomas Friedman, please retire ASAP
And not like Jay-Z. Stay retired. Please.
So Tom, yesterday you pointed out that China can move quickly on issues like climate change because they have a one-party state. Wow, such insight. Just wanted to note that there's another advantage to such a system: they can control the press! Now, a free press is all well and good (if that's what you consider our system), but every time I read a column of yours, I wish some government censor would disappear you into a secret prison.
At least it wasn't yet another apology for the Iraq War. Those were getting old.
So Tom, yesterday you pointed out that China can move quickly on issues like climate change because they have a one-party state. Wow, such insight. Just wanted to note that there's another advantage to such a system: they can control the press! Now, a free press is all well and good (if that's what you consider our system), but every time I read a column of yours, I wish some government censor would disappear you into a secret prison.
At least it wasn't yet another apology for the Iraq War. Those were getting old.
Another article about Park Slope (ugh)
Ok, New York Times, I need to talk to you. I think you have a problem. Every time I turn around it seems you're talking about Park Slope again. A new French bistro on 5th Ave. A flea market on 7th Ave. Problems at the food co-op. So on and so forth. And now this, another piece about love-hate relationships with the Slope. Times, I think you're a junkie.
But you just couldn't help yourself. So this Park Slope resident writes about Park Slope and now all the Park Slopers are posting impassioned blog comments about how they've been represented. I'm sure they're divided over whether to reject the picture Sohn paints ("We're not all like that!") or to embrace it ("A child's growing brain needs organic gluten-free flatbreads after morning yoga!"). Yadda yadda yadda. I hope you all get priced out and have to take the train from Windsor Terrace to get your Kombucha tea from the co-op. See if you can get the workers on co-op cart duty to walk you all the way home. Good luck.
Shockingly, Sohn pokes fun at Park Slope but really, deep down, she loves it. Such a compelling contradiction, no? NO. Everyone feels that way, even people who don't live there (e.g., me... that co-op rocks).
This isn't newsworthy, and Lord knows what it's doing in the home section. This is about a book! Sure, Amy Sohn has a home in that neighborhood, if you want to get technical, but this isn't about her brownstone, which I'm sure is beautiful and artsy and filled with organic cleaning products. And it doesn't say anything interesting about the neighborhood that hasn't been covered within the past two months, I'm sure.
Anyway thanks NYT. Were this on my friend's blog I'd consider it a fluff piece, but somehow it ended up with a starter on the first page of the Home section. Sohn must have a great publicist.
But you just couldn't help yourself. So this Park Slope resident writes about Park Slope and now all the Park Slopers are posting impassioned blog comments about how they've been represented. I'm sure they're divided over whether to reject the picture Sohn paints ("We're not all like that!") or to embrace it ("A child's growing brain needs organic gluten-free flatbreads after morning yoga!"). Yadda yadda yadda. I hope you all get priced out and have to take the train from Windsor Terrace to get your Kombucha tea from the co-op. See if you can get the workers on co-op cart duty to walk you all the way home. Good luck.
Shockingly, Sohn pokes fun at Park Slope but really, deep down, she loves it. Such a compelling contradiction, no? NO. Everyone feels that way, even people who don't live there (e.g., me... that co-op rocks).
This isn't newsworthy, and Lord knows what it's doing in the home section. This is about a book! Sure, Amy Sohn has a home in that neighborhood, if you want to get technical, but this isn't about her brownstone, which I'm sure is beautiful and artsy and filled with organic cleaning products. And it doesn't say anything interesting about the neighborhood that hasn't been covered within the past two months, I'm sure.
Anyway thanks NYT. Were this on my friend's blog I'd consider it a fluff piece, but somehow it ended up with a starter on the first page of the Home section. Sohn must have a great publicist.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Biere de (avant) garde
Amongst the expected subjects of today's headlines (congressional trudging toward health care reform, another reason to hate banks, the Afghan election debacle, Maureen Dowd's attempt at humor, Thomas Friedman adding nothing of value to the conversation, etc.) was something near and dear to my heart: beer!
Nestled under an article about social class and wine criticism (very interesting in its own right) and next to pictures of crazy bento boxes made by overly meticulous mothers is a piece by Joyce Wadler about Sam Calagione's crazy new idea. Founder of the Dogfish Head brewery, Calagione has a rep for ridiculous beers. I think the average ABV of the DH portfolio is something like 9%. They've got the crazy Midas Touch old ale based on a 2700 year old recipe, the raspberry Fort ale, the blueberry and blackberry Belgian, the chicory stout. Very strange ingredients. Not to mention the ridiculous ABVs of the 120 Minute IPA (originally 20%, then reduced to a "reasonable" 18%) and the World Wide Stout (18%), among others.
Anyway, Crazy Sam's new gimmick is to try his hand at brewing chicha, a fermented maize-based drink, which is a bit weak for him considering chicha usually clocks in at 3% or less ABV. But he's not content to go the modern route, oh no, he insists on doing what Peruvians did centuries ago, which is to personally chew the corn, thereby milling it, moistening it and beginning the enzymatic processes. I don't think they do it this way in Peru anymore. So Crazy Sam calls up some other crazies (Wadler and a couple academics) and they all chew corn for a couple hours until their jaws nearly fall off. It's a lot slower and harder than expected (that's what she said!) and they call it quits after chewing only seven of the intended 20 pounds. This, in addition to a whole lot of barley and some strawberries (of course, he can't resist the berries), eventually ferments into something that doesn't really taste like chicha. All of which is to prove that not all of Crazy Sam's ideas come out great.
Truth be told, however, many of them do result in delicious and interesting brews. The "crazy" moniker I've attached is a bit hyperbolic; he makes some weird beers but there's nothing wrong with that. Actually, I really respect the guy and the brewery.
It's always refreshing to see an NYT article about beer that's not written by Eric Asimov (who authored the aforementioned article regarding wine critics). It's not that I dislike Asimov. I enjoy his writing and he is thoughtfully appreciative of beer, but he is a wine guy, first and foremost. There's a lot going on in the beer world that the NYT readership would appreciate, so they really need to put somebody else on that beat. Cheers to Joyce!
Nestled under an article about social class and wine criticism (very interesting in its own right) and next to pictures of crazy bento boxes made by overly meticulous mothers is a piece by Joyce Wadler about Sam Calagione's crazy new idea. Founder of the Dogfish Head brewery, Calagione has a rep for ridiculous beers. I think the average ABV of the DH portfolio is something like 9%. They've got the crazy Midas Touch old ale based on a 2700 year old recipe, the raspberry Fort ale, the blueberry and blackberry Belgian, the chicory stout. Very strange ingredients. Not to mention the ridiculous ABVs of the 120 Minute IPA (originally 20%, then reduced to a "reasonable" 18%) and the World Wide Stout (18%), among others.
Anyway, Crazy Sam's new gimmick is to try his hand at brewing chicha, a fermented maize-based drink, which is a bit weak for him considering chicha usually clocks in at 3% or less ABV. But he's not content to go the modern route, oh no, he insists on doing what Peruvians did centuries ago, which is to personally chew the corn, thereby milling it, moistening it and beginning the enzymatic processes. I don't think they do it this way in Peru anymore. So Crazy Sam calls up some other crazies (Wadler and a couple academics) and they all chew corn for a couple hours until their jaws nearly fall off. It's a lot slower and harder than expected (that's what she said!) and they call it quits after chewing only seven of the intended 20 pounds. This, in addition to a whole lot of barley and some strawberries (of course, he can't resist the berries), eventually ferments into something that doesn't really taste like chicha. All of which is to prove that not all of Crazy Sam's ideas come out great.
Truth be told, however, many of them do result in delicious and interesting brews. The "crazy" moniker I've attached is a bit hyperbolic; he makes some weird beers but there's nothing wrong with that. Actually, I really respect the guy and the brewery.
It's always refreshing to see an NYT article about beer that's not written by Eric Asimov (who authored the aforementioned article regarding wine critics). It's not that I dislike Asimov. I enjoy his writing and he is thoughtfully appreciative of beer, but he is a wine guy, first and foremost. There's a lot going on in the beer world that the NYT readership would appreciate, so they really need to put somebody else on that beat. Cheers to Joyce!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
The preliminaries
On a Saturday morning a couple of months ago, I was brutally ejected from my bed to fetch The New York Times from the nearest bodega so that a certain someone could leisurely peruse it whilst sipping a cup of tea. Off I went, wiping the sleep from my eyes as the elevator de-elevated me to the lobby of my building, where a dozen or so blue plastic bags were propped against the wall of the foyer. Each of these bags, of course, contained a copy of that day's Times. I'd long since given up aspirations to sainthood (not so hot on the martyrdom), so I snatched one and jumped back in the elevator, glad to have kept my $3 or whatever the Saturday paper costs these days. I apologize to whichever late-sleeping neighbor ended up without their paper, though I like to think one of you was out of town that weekend, thus my crime had no victim. I offered this excuse when I reentered my apartment a minute later, though I still met with disapproval. The disapprover, however, was soon enjoying the stolen goods. I believe this constitutes acquiescence.
ANYWAY, I so enjoyed reading the print version that morning, pen in one hand as I butted heads with the crossword, and mug of coffee in the other, that I resolved to get a daily subscription. Of course, I also didn't want to have to walk to the bodega the next time I was obliged to produce the day's newspaper for a certain someone. So that someone, it could be said, is responsible for my subscription and thus this blog and thus your impatience with this rambling post.
But what is this blog exactly? Well, it is a celebration of the printed daily in all of its oversized, cheap-inked, and fading glory. It is a presentation of certain interesting articles, stories, facts, factoids and tidbits from the NYT and other sundry sources, with my own opinion thrown in for good measure. It is a meditation on the printed daily in our time. It is a chronicle of my affair with The Gray Lady. It is many things. To get down to brass tacks, it's simply me geeking out about whatever I read in the paper.
ANYWAY, I so enjoyed reading the print version that morning, pen in one hand as I butted heads with the crossword, and mug of coffee in the other, that I resolved to get a daily subscription. Of course, I also didn't want to have to walk to the bodega the next time I was obliged to produce the day's newspaper for a certain someone. So that someone, it could be said, is responsible for my subscription and thus this blog and thus your impatience with this rambling post.
But what is this blog exactly? Well, it is a celebration of the printed daily in all of its oversized, cheap-inked, and fading glory. It is a presentation of certain interesting articles, stories, facts, factoids and tidbits from the NYT and other sundry sources, with my own opinion thrown in for good measure. It is a meditation on the printed daily in our time. It is a chronicle of my affair with The Gray Lady. It is many things. To get down to brass tacks, it's simply me geeking out about whatever I read in the paper.
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