Given our previously documented interest in Big Soda's largest reward programs (My Coke Rewards and Pepsi Stuff), brumpelstiltskin were quite intrigued to learn of a new "diagnosis" apparently being considered by psychiatrists in charge of revising the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM).
Namely, in yet another Mic's Tape exclusive, we've learned that the DSM-V (expected release date: May 2012) may include so-called "Soda Point Induced Neurosis" (aka SPIN). According to an anonymous email (signed, "A disgruntled former assistant to then-APA President Dr. Steven Sharfstein"), SPIN is characterized first and foremost by the "compulsive hoarding of soft drink bottle caps".
The email, which we received yesterday, went on to read: "To be diagnosed with SPIN, the patient must meet at least four of the following criteria during the same 2-week period, which must include (1) and (2)":
(1) Moderate to severe interest in at least one of the following:
Free music, movies, and electronics
Free sweepstakes entries
Becoming a walking billboard for Coca-Cola and/or its corporate partners
(2) The patience to redeem 10 to 12-digit nonsense codes via manual online entry
(3) Continued hoarding despite embarrassing social/interpersonal consequences (e.g., being spotted by a co-worker while removing a Diet Pepsi Max bottle from a trash can) (4) Recurrent hoarding despite future dental ramifications for self or loved ones (e.g., unintentionally enabling girlfriend's formerly under-control pop addiction)
(5) Brazen disregard for potential legal repurcussions (e.g., unlawful removal of empty cardboard 12-pack containers from local recycling facility) (6) Diminished ability to make rational decisions (e.g., buying Pepsi instead of Cherry Coke—even though the latter's on sale and you like its taste better—because you're "one point away from that hot new David Archuleta download").
So, is SPIN really destined for the DSM-V? Or is our source for this story suffering from some kind of caffeine-induced psychosis? Only time will tell.
While walking through my office waiting area the other day, a certain magazine cover (pictured right) caused me to do a double take.
At first glance, it looked like it could have been an Onion article: a picture of a beautiful, healthy-looking celebrity—oddly paired with a “Stop Calling Me Fat!” byline—accompanied, no doubt, by a satirical article cleverly ridiculing our culture’s increasingly twisted ideals of “normal” weight and physical attractiveness.
But in actuality it was the 17 Dec 2007 issue of People magazine, in which the cover story detailed the reaction of actress/singer Jennifer Love Hewitt's (aka J. LoH) after gossip website TMZ.com published the above photo alongside the headline: "We know what you ate this summer, Love -- everything!"
Hewitt responded directly via her own website; here is an excerpt:
I've sat by in silence for a long time now about the way women's bodies are constantly scrutinized. To set the record straight, I'm not upset for me, but for all of the girls out there that are struggling with their body image.
A size 2 is not fat! Nor will it ever be. And being a size 0 doesn't make you beautiful.
Hewitt's concern for those "struggling with their body image" is very well-founded, especially since numerous scientific studies such as this one suggest a "direct effect of media exposure [to a thin ideal body image for women] on eating disorder symptoms".
Interestingly, Hewitt has been back in the headlines recently, only this time it's for having lost weight. The decision to seemingly flaunt her successful diet on the cover of Us Weekly has led some to question the consistency of her stance.
While there's little doubt that Hewitt's words and actions convey a mixed message, the stand she took against the media should be commended all the same. Our culture's distorted, unrealistic and unhealthy "thin ideal" needs to be challenged, and media outlets that shamelessly reinforce it—like TMZ—should be reviled.
On Thursday night—45 years to the day since Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech—Sen Barack Obama (D) paid tribute to MLK prior to becoming the first African American candidate to accept the Presidential nomination of any major US political party.
And Friday morning—some 38 years since a trio of Cardinals led by Michael Palin unexpected crashed a Monty Python sketch (see below video)—Alaska Governor Sarah Palin unexpectedly crashed the 2008 US Presidential race when Sen John McCain (R) announced her as his running mate.
Given Palin's striking lack of national political name recognition, the US news media has spent much of the past 48 hours trying to decipher the rationale behind McCain's surprise decision. Well, here in brumpelstiltskin, rather than decipher, we decided to pick up the phone and call McCain's campaign chief, Steve Schmidt [pictured, below left]. In a Mic's Tape exclusive, here's what Schmidt had to say regarding the logic behind the Palin choice:
Our chief weapon is fear...fear and—wait, you asked about our campaign's strategy in general, right? Oh, about the strategy behind the Palin choice, specifically?
Well, on that front, our chief weapon is surprise...surprise and a pair of X chromosomes—our TWO weapons are a lack of a Y chromosome and surprise...and energy proficiency—our THREE weapons are an XX sex chromosome, surprise, proficiency on the issue of energy...and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope's position on abortion—our FOUR...no—amongst our weapons...amongst our weaponry are such elements as—let me start again...
Amongst Palin's weaponry are such diverse elements as: womanishness, surprise, energy efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope's position on abortion, and some nice executive experience—Oh damn! [at which point he hung up]
Regarding Schmidt's final point, Palin will indeed bring the GOP ticket a dose of executive experience; granted, she's only been Alaska's Governor for two years, but that's nonetheless two more years than Senators McCain, Obama, and Joe Biden (Obama's VP) combined. In addition, she's clearly a formidable voice on energy/oil (a huge political issue in Alaska), which signals that McCain will continue to "drill" into voters minds the assertion that whereas the Republicans would lower gas prices by tapping offshore (and perhaps ANWR) oil supplies, Barack Obama would merely hand out tire gauges.
On the topic of Palin as a person, I've discovered that she: (a) seems quite likable; (b) has a son who will soon head to Iraq; and (c) has faced significant adversity in her personal life (e.g., her four-month-old son, Trig, has Down Syndrome). That said, all of these points can also be attributed to Joe Biden, so it's difficult to imagine that the RML (Running Mate Likablitity) factor will swing votes disproportionately in either direction.
Otherwise, while Palin is obviously knowledgeable on Alaska's state economy, I've seen no evidence to suggest that she's especially qualified on the national economy (like, say, Mitt Romney), which will do nothing to reassure those concerned by McCain's own Dec 2007 remark that: "The issue of economics is not something I've understood as well as I should".
Furthermore, Palin appears to have zero record on foreign policy. One of the few comments of hers to have surfaced in reference to a foreign policy issue stems from a Dec 2006 interview for Alaska Business Monthly. In response to the question, "How do you feel about sending more troops into battle, as President Bush is suggesting", she said:
I've been so focused on state government, I haven't really focused much on the war in Iraq. I heard on the news about the new deployments, and while I support our president, Condoleezza Rice and the administration, I want to know that we have an exit plan in place; I want assurances that we are doing all we can to keep our troops safe. Every life lost is such a tragedy. I am very, very proud of the troops we have in Alaska, those fighting overseas for our freedoms, and the families here who are making so many sacrifices. [emphasis mine]
The more I think about it, the more McCain's choice reeks of an assumption that would-be Hillary Clinton supporters will be either angry or gullible enough to conclude that McCain—simply because he's chosen a female running mate—is somehow more in tune with their interests than Sen Obama. That Gov Palin explicitly praised Clinton during her speech on Friday only heightens one's sense that this was largely a political ploy aimed at Hillary Democrats.
However, given the stark contrast between (a) the GOP/McCain's platform and (b) the political priorities of those he's trying to court—not to mention Sen Clinton's enthusiastic embrace of Sen Obama at last week's Democratic Convention—I cannot imagine this apparent ploy working to McCain's advantage. To the contrary, I predict that the number of Hillary Democrats who will now vote McCain because his VP is a woman will be roughly offset by the number of paternalistic Republicans who will now not vote McCain because his VP is a woman.
In conclusion, Palin is an accomplished and impressive politician who may very well prove to be a quick learner when it comes to campaigning and debating on national economic and foreign policy issues. But if she isn't quick on her feet, McCain will surely come to regret his choice.
Recent events have been quite momentous, at least to the extent that never before had all six members of Brumpelstiltskin (BS) vied so aggressively for the rights to document the same topic. Greenspanke, for instance, jumped at the financial implications; whilst Michail dubbed it an ideal tie-in to his planned piece on Presidential historian Allan Lichtman; and MC Gallagher, with not a hint of sarcasm, decreed it the stuff of rock operas.
In the end, though, the events were judged so ridiculous and coincidental, so cruel yet comical—so, well, Dickensian—that we decided that I (as the closest thing Mic's Tape has to a literateur) should have the honor of attempting to do them justice. So here, without further ado, is the recent tale of a certain (unnamed) BS member's first 48 hours in his new apartment.
Chapter I On 31 Jul 2008, after weeks of tempestuous sorting and tumultuous cleaning amid the howling winds of procrastination; after hours of bitter packing amongst the frigid limitations of a 14-foot U-Haul; after nearly backing said U-Haul into the porch of his soon-to-be former residence, thus commencing a turbulent transport over the roiling potholes of cobblestone streets; and, finally, after nearly securing sweet shelter (for both himself and his belongings) from the chaotic storm of moving, our young hero naively closed the auto-deadbolting door to his new abode—thereby locking 10% of his belongings, four friends, and himself without; and 90% of his belongings; one friend’s purse, and his house KEY within!
Chapter II In response, rather than pay Landlord a scorchingly steep after-hours unlocking fee of $50 (before his lease had technically even begun, no less), our protagonist opted to sojourn at a friend's, where he lay awake, tossing and burning in vexation until the seething heat of self-reproach at last yielded to sleep. He awoke the morning of 1 Aug 2008 and, with the searing smoke of his recent blunder still thick in his mind, drove to Landlord for the spare key, and thence back to his new parking lot where, with his final load of belongings in tow, he prepared to re-enter his new abode, and thus extinguish any last embers of exasperation.
But alas, after shifting into Park he realized that he could not remove his car KEY from its ignition. Believing it to be physically stuck (and not bound by electrical glitch), he ingenuously responded by removing a set of pliers from his IKEA toolbox (situated irresistibly beside him in the passenger seat), which of course resulted not in success but in quite literally breaking his key in two—half in said pliers and half still in the ignition—hence reigniting the fiery flames of frustration!
Chapter III Soon after phoning Mechanic to order an expensive ignition removal device, our hero somehow managed to remove the car key using the considerably less expensive apparatuses known as thumb and forefinger, and thus canceled the aforementioned order only to then, upon checking his mail, make the wrenching discovery that his postal box lacked a latch for locking, which he knew could come back to screw him should his hammered college-aged neighbors decide to open his box and theft coveted Netflix envelopes (or other valuable parcels). At once, he bolted back to the phone to request prompt maintenance from Landlord and, on the following afternoon of 2 Aug 2008, he returned home to find new hardware on his postal box.
But lo and behold, into said hardware his mail KEY no longer fit! Now on the verge of going completely nuts (and convinced that surely a new key had been left on the premises), he proceeded to implement a lengthy, scouring search of his new dwelling. And just when we thought every last inch had been sifted through, and just as he prepared to clamp his head within the liberating vice of a stiff drink, he looked up and saw—there, in the most obvious and rational of places—his new mail key taped to the inside of his new front door. "Oh, what a massive tool I am", he thought to himself as he grabbed the key. And from there he could only smile.
I felt like I'd shown up five minutes late to the Duran Duran vocalist audition to find Simon Le Bon already in the band. I was devastated, crestfallen, inconsolable.
For a good two years I'd been crafting this concept of a website: a user-driven, wiki-style index of if and where (relative to your zip code) anything and everything can be recycled.
Have a copy of George W. Bush's A Charge to Keep that you no longer want, but no one will take, let alone buy? No problem, your nearby facility, City Carton, just added book recycling to its repertoire. Does your company go through loads of ink cartridges that are ending up in landfills? Well, this company will pay you to let them recycle those. These are but a couple of the potential success stories I envisioned.
Anyway, I had the concept, the desire, and even a badass web design company to help make it happen. All I needed was a name.
And then, about a month ago, it came to me: Recyclopedia.
There it was. I felt like a schoolboy again, I was so excited! Within minutes, I called a friend to ask him if he was interested in helping. He was. From there, I began to brainstorm the logistics (possible costs, etc). But then, on a whim, I googled "Recyclopedia", which led me to THIS.
Recyclopedia.net? With a mixture of horror and wonder, I read the site's description:
This is a website to help you find information on how to correctly dispose of things. First choose your location and then find what you're trying to get rid of on the list. We'll tell you whether it can go out with the trash, in your blue box, to a charity or if it needs special attention.
That there was a website out there whose mission so closely paralleled my own, that I could believe. But that it literally had the exact same name, that was just eerie.
Well, for the last month I sulked—like a big, bitter baby—about being beaten to the punch. After more reflection, though, I now realize that all that matters is that someone has put this idea into effect. So, if your city/county is missing (like mine is) from Recyclopedia's small but growing database of participating areas, please join me in heeding their call:
If you don't see your location listed, drop us a line and we'll tell you how to get your area online.
Between the ages of 18 and 24, I made the unlikely transition from bar-shunning teetotaler to pub-rating beer enthusiast.
While my taste in beer has no doubt become a bit snooty—take my infatuation with imperial stouts—I like to think myself less a snob than a fan of the craft as a whole.
As such, it was an absolute privilege to partake in the first ever "Yellow Beer Challenge" (YBC), held on Jun 28, in which myself and seven other imbibers faced off in a blind taste test of various American light beers.
When asked why he created the YBC, the event's founder/emcee (code name: "Seamus O'Chihak") put it this way:
The rules were simple. First, O'Chihak unveiled his five mystery brews, each in its own unmarked container; and second, he handed each participant a list of nine possible brand identities. We then tasted, described and guessed the identity of each beer. Finally, when all five had been sipped, we ranked them from 1 (best) to 5 (worst).
The results are summarized below (beers listed, from left to right, in order of presentation). Included in the data table are the percentage of raters who correctly identified each beer; the final YBC rankings; and, for comparison purposes, each lager's rating on the "beer connoisseur" websites Beer Advocate (BA), given in letter grades, and Rate Beer (RB), given in percentiles from 0/worst to 100/best:
As you can see, despite being the clear "critical" favorite, LaCrosse could only muster a disappointing tied-for-third finish. Rather, the event's big winner turned out to be PBR, which basically "blue" away even its closest competitor, Bud Light, which itself managed an impressive Silver despite a "0th percentile" rating from Rate Beer.
Interestingly—nay, fascinatingly—while our panel of eight deemed PBR best and Busch Light worst, an astounding 63% of judges wrongly identified the taste of Busch Light (the worst beer) with the name of PBR (the best beer)! By contrast, not one judge correctly identified PBR as PBR. This finding suggests an intriguing phenomenon. Namely, while people seemed to intellectualize PBR as being the worst (e.g., "This beer tastes like crap—it must be PBR" or "This beer is great—it can't be PBR"), their more primal instincts (i.e., taste buds) told a different story altogether.
Equally captivating were the judges' descriptions. For instance, one rater described LaCrosse as "an unfortunate beer, with a hint of misery, that finishes despite your best effort", while another judge, in reference to Busch Light (which he mistook for Icehouse), remarked, "I'd pay $18.95 a case and drink it in high school".
On a personal note, I was proud to learn that I completely mixed up my three favorite lagers: identifying PBR as Busch Light, Busch Light as LaCrosse, and LaCrosse as PBR. Call me crazy, but in the perfect symmetry of such a failure, I can't help but feel like a success.
Countless couples Clash concerning cinema. While one digs romantic dramas like A Place in the Sun, the other prefers classic westerns like Red River, and so on. But riding to the rescue in recent years has been Netflix, the DVD-rental-by-mail service whose "Profile" feature offers an ideal antidote to film-related fighting (aka "flickering").
In brief, Profiles allow couples (or families, roommates, etc) to join Netflix under the same account (in terms of billing), but maintain completely independent sub-accounts with unique queues, friends, ratings and tailor-made recommendations. This way two friends, as an example, can split the cost of the 4 DVDs at-a-time plan (for $12 each/mo) without sacrificing any of the personalized features they'd get if they each purchased separate 2-at-a-time plans (for $14/mo).
As beneficiaries of said service, Brumpelstiltskin were absolutely gutted when, on Jun 25, Netflix announced intentions to eliminate Profiles. Our finance guru, Greenspanke, responded by downgrading Netflix stock to "Triple Sell" whilst MC Gallagher even threatened to "join the fooking competition".
We were not alone in our angst. Indeed, a chorus of disgruntled fans of the service sounded off on blogs and forums, while others banded together via both an online petition ("Save Netflix Profiles") and a Facebook group ("People annoyed that Netflix is eliminating profiles").
And lo and behold, it worked. On Jun 30, Netflix sent its members an email, the first line of which simply read: "You spoke, and we listened. We are keeping Profiles". Within minutes, the usually cautious Greenspanke upgraded NFLX straight past "Don't Buy" all the way to "Risky".
On its official blog, Netflix further clarified both their initial decision and the subsequent about-face:
Because of an ongoing desire to make our website easier to use, we believed taking a feature away that is only used by a very small minority would help us improve the site for everyone. Listening to our members, we realized that users of this feature often describe it as an essential part of their Netflix experience. Simplicity is only one virtue and it can certainly be outweighed by utility.
Call us naive, but such language is welcomely candid coming from a big business: the original "sin" seems to have been genuinely well-intentioned; the apology, gracious and humble. But such actions should also boost profits: not only has a great service to customers been spared, but in the process great customer service has been proven.
In others words, while it was only balk/bluster to begin with, we won't be joining the competition any time soon.
Namely, in yet another Mic's Tape exclusive, we've learned that the DSM-V (expected release date: May 2012) may include so-called "Soda Point Induced Neurosis" (aka SPIN). According to an anonymous email (signed, "A disgruntled former assistant to then-APA President Dr. Steven Sharfstein"), SPIN is characterized first and foremost by the "compulsive hoarding of soft drink bottle caps".
limitations of a 14-foot U-Haul; after nearly backing said U-Haul into the porch of his soon-to-be former residence, thus commencing a turbulent transport over the roiling potholes of cobblestone streets; and, finally, after nearly securing sweet shelter (for both himself and his belongings) from the chaotic storm of moving, our young hero naively closed the auto-deadbolting door to his new abode—thereby locking 10% of his belongings, four friends, and himself without; and 90% of his belongings; one friend’s purse, and his house 
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