BRAAAAAIIINNNNS!!!!

Pax Arcana

There is probably no surer sign of traumatic brain injury than voluntarily submitting to the will of the evil axis of zombies and scientists — yet that’s exactly what happened when 12 of the world’s top athletes willfully donated their brains to Boston University.

We’ve already chronicled the nefarious intentions of the world’s scientists, who seek to destroy humankind either by sucking us through manmade black holes or letting loose radioactive fungi into our bowls of cream of mushroom soup. The threat of zombies should be self-evident by now.

But all this information wasn’t enough to stop former Patriots player Ted Johnson, and others, from falling prey to smooth-talking charms of the scientific community. The athletes have vowed to donate their brains to help researchers study the long-term effects of concussions. The issue has come to the forefront in recent years, in part due to the well-publicized depression — and in the case of former Dolphins player John Grimsley, suicide — of some former NFL players:

Of the six former N.F.L. players’ brains that have been examined in this manner, Grimsley’s was the fifth to be found to have chronic traumatic encephalopathy, joining the former Philadelphia Eagles defensive back Andre Waters and the former Pittsburgh Steelers Mike Webster, Terry Long and Justin Strzelczyk. (The condition can be confirmed only by post-mortem tissue analysis; X-rays and magnetic resonance imaging tests cannot yet detect it.) Because each player died relatively young, from 36 to 50, they provided an opportunity to examine brain abnormalities that are exceedingly rare in someone of that age without a history of repetitive brain injury.

This is all very sad. Especially since the scientists allowed the zombies to draft the agreement paperwork stipulating that the brains be donated not “at the time of death of the party of the first part,” as originally agreed, but instead “BRRAAAAAAAAINNS NNNOOWWWWW .”

12 Athletes Leaving Brains to Concussion Study [NYT]

The return of Tuesday Tubby Tearfest

Father Scott

Fall might be my favorite time of the year. Our company flag football league starts up. Baseball finds its way into the playoffs. And I get to explore the earth tones and heavier fabrics of my extensively LL Bean-ized closet.

But nothing energizes me more than the return of The Biggest Loser.

Yes, America’s best example of exploiting the obese and occasionally motivated members of society by promising them a better life and a chance at some cash if they’ll only appear on a reality show, be shamelessly ridiculed by a she-male trainer, and appear topless during their weekly weigh-in. And it’s all the better if you’re eating ice cream while watching.

“I will fucking kill you, and then feed off your entrails”

This year the gimmick is families, taking last year’s “couples” feature a step forward. Go home, friends — Jillian and Bob will only work with blood relatives in 2008.

It’s early yet, so it’s hard to tell who will captivate me this year. Last year it was the lovable hopeless oaf Paul, who likely will die in a pool of tears and barbeque chicken within the next five years. I miss Paul.

I’d love to introduce you to all the teams, but I unfortunately forgot about the show’s premiere until receiving a text message from Pax a half-hour into the first episode asking me how awesome it was. Damn it.

Two great things appeared in the first episode: A tool that estimated the competitors’ “biological age” — the age the conditions of their organs suggested they were, based on overuse. (Incidentally, I hooked myself up to the machine. My penis: 4,057 years old.)

The 26-year old cabby from Somerville, who Pax is no doubt rooting for, was like 47 biologically, which wasn’t a surprise to anyone who saw the 350 lb. tub of lard try to walk without sweating. Anyway, the tool seemed to be a wakeup call for many contestants: They have seen their weight time and again, so that’s not a shock. But seeing that you’ve aged your insides 20 years because you can’t put down the Cheetos? That’s motivation.

Second was the fact that they have the man who has to be considered their most disgusting out-of-shape mongoloid in their history. The requisite old man on the show, the 5’10, 380 lb. Jerry, is in such bad shape that they will only allow him to work out for 30 minutes a day, for fear that Jillian will, you know, off his ass. While this is undoubtedly awesome, it’s also lame — his daughter Colleen was at a huge advantage in the competition, which required the pairs to walk in grueling heat up a hill to find various benefits (including immunity, obvi.).

Immediately after striking this pose, Jerry took a three-hour nap while hooked up to life-sustaining IVs

Needless to say, the most likeable and least asshole-y team got voted off last week, which seems to always happen in reality TV. And while it’s early to project these things, let’s get to the two weekly items.

OVER/UNDER ON INSTANCES OF CRYING

As you know, the best part of Tuesday Tubby Tearfest, and the cause of this weekly posting, is the immeasurable crying that takes place on the show. I set the over/under, and you wage a guess as to how much sobbing, crying, or flat-out blubbering will take place this week.

Because it’s early and the contestants are still 1) really freaking fat, 2) unused to the idea of losing tons of weight, and 3) emotionally volatile, I expect the number to be high. I’m setting the over/under at 14.5 — I’ll take the over, but the fact that there has yet to be an emotional investment in the other teams makes me hesitant.

WHO GOES HOME

This is nearly impossible to tell. I think the drama of the yellow team and Old Man SitOnTheSidelines keeps them around. The Boston cabbies will prove resourceful. The orange team seemed to have outsized personalities, always a plus in reality TV. So I’ll throw my money on the purple team, Amy and Shellay. Why? Her name is Shel-lay. What a fucking stupid name.

I don’t care how you threaten me, I will not call you a milf

THIS TRANSACTIN IS 100% SAFE

Pax Arcana

SUBJECT: REQUEST FOR URGENT BUSINESS RELATIONSHIP

DEAR AMERICAN:
I NEED TO ASK YOU TO SUPPORT AN URGENT SECRET BUSINESS RELATIONSHIP WITH A TRANSFER OF FUNDS OF GREAT MAGNITUDE.

I AM MINISTRY OF THE TREASURY OF THE REPUBLIC OF AMERICA. MY COUNTRY HAS HAD CRISIS THAT HAS CAUSED THE NEED FOR LARGE TRANSFER OF FUNDS OF 800 BILLION DOLLARS US. IF YOU WOULD ASSIST ME IN THIS TRANSFER, IT WOULD BE MOST PROFITABLE TO YOU.

I AM WORKING WITH MR. PHIL GRAM, LOBBYIST FOR UBS, WHO WILL BE MY REPLACEMENT AS MINISTRY OF THE TREASURY IN JANUARY. AS A SENATOR, YOU MAY KNOW HIM AS THE LEADER OF THE AMERICAN BANKING DEREGULATION MOVEMENT IN THE 1990S. THIS TRANSACTIN IS 100% SAFE.

THIS IS A MATTER OF GREAT URGENCY. WE NEED A BLANK CHECK. WE NEED THE FUNDS AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE. WE CANNOT DIRECTLY TRANSFER THESE FUNDS IN THE NAMES OF OUR CLOSE FRIENDS BECAUSE WE ARE CONSTANTLY UNDER SURVEILLANCE. MY FAMILY LAWYER ADVISED ME THAT I SHOULD LOOK FOR A RELIABLE AND TRUSTWORTHY PERSON WHO WILL ACT AS A NEXT OF KIN SO THE FUNDS CAN BE TRANSFERRED.

PLEASE REPLY WITH ALL OF YOUR BANK ACCOUNT, IRA AND COLLEGE FUND ACCOUNT NUMBERS AND THOSE OF YOUR CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN TO WALLSTREETBAILOUT@TREASURY.GOV SO THAT WE MAY TRANSFER YOUR COMMISSION FOR THIS TRANSACTION. AFTER I RECEIVE THAT INFORMATION, I WILL RESPOND WITH DETAILED INFORMATION ABOUT SAFEGUARDS THAT WILL BE USED TO PROTECT THE FUNDS.

YOURS FAITHFULLY MINISTER OF TREASURY PAULSON

Hank Paulson’s bailout 419 [Boing Boing]

Our fertilizer is now less explodey

Pax Arcana

Scientists at chemical corporation Honeywell say they’ve found a way to treat ammonium nitrate — commonly known as fertilizer — in order to render it non-explosive.

Finally our tomatoes can enjoy a bit of peace of mind. Oh, and the rest of us too:

Ammonium nitrate can be soaked in diesel fuel to produce a powerful bomb and is a favorite of terrorists, but when chemically tied to the ammonium sulfate, its chemical structure is changed so that it is no longer explosive.

Chemists had been looking for ways to render ammonium nitrate nonexplosive since the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City was destroyed by a truck bomb in 1995, killing 168.

The flaming bag of poop — the original fertilizer bomb

While “safeguarding the livelihood of America and its citizens” might be the most obvious benefit of this discovery, it wasn’t the incentive:

An agriculture expert not affiliated with Honeywell, Jack Rabin, associate director for farm programs at the Rutgers New Jersey Agricultural Experiment Station, said many companies were looking for ways to render ammonium nitrate inert, because the Department of Homeland Security requires that farmers safeguard their stockpiles of the widely used fertilizer and report their inventories to the government.

In other words, the multinational agricultural conglomerates that grow, process, package, and ship our corn nuggets had to do an awful lot of padlocking and paperwork in the wake of Oklahoma City, and Lord knows we can’t have that.

New Process Eliminates a Fertilizer’s Blast Threat [NYT]

Three things I learned at Yankee Stadium

Pax Arcana

Barring a monumental collapse by a handful of superior teams, last night was the end for legendary Yankee Stadium — home to more than 1/6th of all World Series games.

I watched some of ESPN’s coverage of the occasion. The pregame broadcast had the distinction of being both haphazard (it ran on two different ESPN channels while overlapping with NFL Gameday, SportsCenter, and drag racing coverage) and absurd (sample Buck Showalter quote — “I think the word is etheerul”).

But not even ESPN could ruin what was undoubtedly a heartfelt goodbye to the House that Ruth Built. Old Yankee players like Reggie Jackson, Bernie Williams, and Yogi Berra had their go-rounds, and throughout the game there were dusty-eyed tributes to the ballpark.

I admit I was touched.

My parents are Yankee fans (both New York City natives, they had committed before the Mets even existed), so I spent a few afternoons at the stadium — often waiting for the rain to stop and hoping they’d get the game in. Here are three “firsts” I witnessed at the stadium:

The first time I saw pot. Back in the day, my parents weren’t the high-rolling Lexus drivers they are today. I don’t think my dad paid more than $9 for a baseball ticket until 2002, so most of my ballpark experience was from the cheap seats. During one game at Yankee Stadium, the whole family of five was perched in the nosebleeds when we all smelled something a little strange. My mother said — and this is a direct quote from at least 20 years ago — “Smells like someone’s smokin’ the funnyweed.” We looked down the row to our right and saw two guys sharing a joint. One was hispanic. The other guy was a skinny white stoner with a floppy hipster fro. You know, kind of like this guy.

The first time my brother paid a protection racket not to steal our car. I’m a little fuzzy on the details of this one. I can’t remember if the lot was in the stadium or nearby, and I can’t remember why my eldest brother had to go to the car by himself — maybe he was fetching our camera or something. But I do remember him coming back and telling my parents he’d been approached by a guy named “Ramon” (I think) who said he would make sure nothing happened to our car — for $20. My brother — 17 or so at the time — did the smart thing and paid up. New York was a little different in the 1980s.

The first time I saw a 400-pound man muscle an inside fastball 350 feet in the wrong direction. It was Tigers at Yankees, probably 1991 or 1992. Cecil Fielder was one of the most feared sluggers in baseball, and one of the fattest men to ever play professional sports. We had seats behind home plate for this game (not directly behind… more like behind and 200 feet up), and during one at-bat Fielder lumbered his giant ass up to the dish, tapped his shoes lethargically, and hit the most improbable home run I’ve ever seen. Had he refrained from swinging, the pitch may well have hit his belly button. Instead, Fielder was fooled, swung late, barely got his bat on the ball, and sent a moon-shot high into the second deck in right field. It wasn’t the greatest home run I’ve ever seen in person (that would be Mueller) or the most majestic (that would be Strawberry), but it certainly was… something.

I never visited Monument Park there. I never saw Derek Jeter play there. I never even cheered for the Yankees there. But like a lot of people, I’ll miss the place for my own reasons.

I think the word is “ethereal.”

Friday Random 10: Volt Edition

Pax Arcana

Despite my endorsement of extra-terrestrial Vice Presidential candidates, Pax Arcana is a proud American who wants nothing but the best for cornerstone American businesses such as auto manufacturers, software companies, and the Wayans brothers.

That’s why I’m openly rooting for the Chevy Volt.

The Volt. Can you feel the electricity?

Like other American car companies, Chevy is on the brink of irrelevance thanks to our increasing distaste for the gas-guzzling trucks that propped up the domestic market throughout the 1990s and early 2000s. In a hugely risky gamble to get back on track, Chevy is pouring around half a billion dollars into research and development of the Volt, a mostly-electric car aimed at bringing reduced-emissions vehicles to mainstream America.

If successful, the groundbreaking technology tucked inside the car could drastically reduce the environmental impact of each owner:

The Volt, which General Motors finally unveiled Tuesday, is a series hybrid, also called a range-extended electric vehicle. Like the Prius, it’s got an electric motor and a gasoline engine, but the engine merely charges the battery as it approaches depletion. Electricity alone turns the 17-inch wheels. The Volt is designed to travel 40 miles on a single charge of its lithium-ion battery, meaning most drivers will never burn a drop of gasoline.

It won’t be mass produced until 2010, but here’s hoping Chevy’s on to something. I’m sure our environmentally savvy and not-at-all-shrunken-brained vegetarian friend Eoin over at the Bright Green Blog will keep us up to date.

The songs:

Candylion – Gruff Rhys
What’s Good — Lou Reed
Blind – Talking Heads
Videotape — Radiohead
Masochism World — Hüsker Dü
Bye & Bye — Bob Dylan
NYC-Gone, Gone — Conor Oberst
Mississippi – Bob Dylan
Bought for a Song — Fountains of Wayne
Missing – Beck

Bonus Video:

I’m OK You’re OK — Let’s Wrestle (Live at Stolen)

The Rules: The Friday Random 10 is exactly that — random. We open up our iTunes, set the thing on shuffle, and listen to 10 songs. We are not permitted to skip any out of embarrassment or fear of redundancy. Commenters are encouraged to post their own.

The Renewed Mind is the Key

Pax Arcana

Good morning, brothers and sisters. I trust you arrived at your workplaces comfortable in the knowledge that there is a God above who loves you (unless you’re a Phillies fan, naturally).

What’s that? You’re not sure about this God business? Seems a little silly to align your entire belief structure around a supernatural being first conceived of by desert nomads 2,000 years ago?

Well in that case, please accept my invitation to renew your motherfucking mind. Quickly, before they take down this hilarious video:

Nope. Not creepy at all.

Hat tip to Dr. French Fry

Stealth Cat is effective

Pax Arcana

Just a little something to think about when you think it’s completely safe in your living room:

Wayne Brady was worried

Pax Arcana

Apropos of absolutely nothing, King Magazine went and rounded up a bunch of Chappelle’s Show regulars to compile what it calls “the definitive oral history” of the much-missed series.

While I dispute that three short pages of Web copy can really be called a definitive oral history of anything, there is some pretty good stuff in there.

We miss you dearly, President Black Bush

For some of the regulars, like writer/actor Bill Burr, the explosion of popularity the show enjoyed was downright stupefying:

I was doing stand-up at this festival in Tennessee called Bonnaroo—a bunch of white hippie bands, alternative shit. I was backstage waiting for this band to come out, and all of a sudden the lights went out. Five thousand people waiting in the dark, and then you just hear some kid in the back go, ‘Whaaaat?’ Then somebody else yells, “Okaaaay! Yeeaaah!” It sent a chill up my spine.

This may partly explain why Chappelle famously flaked out and fled to Africa for some sort of black comedian NOLS trip.

Also, there’s a funny sequence in there about the Wayne Brady sketch — which remains my all-time favorite. Brady had seen comedian Paul Mooney make fun of him in a prior episode and had complained in person to some of Chappelle’s friends. Chappelle called Brady the next day and eventually they arranged the cameo.

What’s funny, in hindsight, is that the most famous line of the sketch, “Is Wayne Brady gonna have to choke a bitch?” was not originally in the script. Here’s Brady’s curious take on how things got changed:

I curse. I’m not squeaky clean. [But] I didn’t like the term, “Slap a ho.” I’ve got a daughter; there’s something about [that] that’s too real. So we came up with the whole line “Is Wayne Brady gonna have to choke a bitch?”

So to avoid getting “too real,” Wayne Brady changed “slap a ho” to “choke a bitch.” I think that makes perfect sense, and confirms my belief that Wayne Brady is a comic savant.

The Rise and Fall of Chappelle’s Show [King]

Vegetarians are getting dumber

Pax Arcana

Scientists at Oxford University have discovered that people who consume an all-vegetable diet are six times more likely to suffer from “brain shrinkage,” which sounds like a made-up disease from a slapdash 1970s sci-fi movie.

As it happens, the human body — which evolved over a few hundred thousand years to digest meat as part of its natural diet — needs Vitamin B12 to maintain a healthy brain weight. Physical and mental tests on more than 100 subjects revealed that those who consumed only vegetables were more likely to suffer brain atrophy:

“This study suggests that simply adjusting our diets to consume more Vitamin B₁₂ through eating meat, fish, fortified cereals or milk may…prevent brain shrinkage and so perhaps save our memory,” said study researcher Anna Vogiatzoglou. “Research shows that Vitamin B₁₂ deficiency is a public health problem, especially among the elderly, so more Vitamin B₁₂ intake could help reverse this problem.”

Look at the bright side, vegetarians — your rapidly shrinking brains make you less attractive targets for zombies. The robots, however, do not discriminate. So watch your fucking back, dummy.

Meat-Free Diets May Be Bad For The Brain [FPD]