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: Farewell: Alan Dundes has died. His work helped me understand Indian superstitions and I'm grateful for that, and sad that he is gone.


: Core Competency: I was about to take Websnark off my to-read list, and then in his April Fool's entry he made me smile with a self-mocking riff on "Diff'rent Strokes Syndrome". OK, you get another week.

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: Crate-Building Nuthatch: Do you have the blues? My cure: listen to The Donnas' "Do You Wanna Hit It" and look at Dave Bort's comics.


: Fetch!: Pupna is a joke search engine.

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: Kneel-Down Comic: Just got to tell someone the most classic riddle (the Sphinx one about "Four legs in the morning..."). He didn't know the answer.

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: Salon Music Epiphany: I just realized how much music Salon Premium members get to download. Not only do they get almost forty songs (MP3s) in the most recent Salon Music Mix and archived December 2004 mix, but they can download a new song (MP3) every weekday with Audiofile (which has an RSS feed), and there's a bunch of archived stuff too, some in MP3 format.

True, some of these free downloads are not exclusive to Salon, but Salon selects good tunes to give its members. I don't have the time to scan a billion free song sites and MP3 blogs; Salon performs the filtering.

The standard iTunes price for a song is a dollar, right? Well, Salon Premium costs $35 for a year of membership, so with Audiofile and the Salon Music Mix, the membership pays for itself in a month. You could care not a whit about the writing or the free print mags, and just join Salon Premium for the music! Geeks note: no DRM, either.


: Why Not?: When I die, I want my organs donated. So I put the pink "donor" dot on my ID and told my loved ones about my wishes. But what if they aren't around or I don't have my wallet on me when I die? Also, I hope my loved ones would let me donate my organs, but it's tough to ask just-bereaved people to make that decision. That's why I've also joined the Donate Life California Registry.

What if my family members are opposed to donation?
Once an individual has made the decision to be an organ and tissue donor, and has joined the Donate Life California Registry, family members cannot override an individual's decision to donate.

Most "major" religions support organ, tissue, or blood donation, but Shinto and Gypsy beliefs oppose organ donation.

I found the registry, which starts today, through a story in the Oakland Tribune.


: Non-Crazy Libertarians?!: Wow, maybe I should actually start reading Jane Galt. Not only does she make a cogent argument against a certain pro-same-sex-marriage argument, but she also actually recognizes the difference between Libertopia and our current situation!

Update: Seth, I do realize that Ms. Galt's argument is not a libertarian one but a conservative one. I mention "libertarians" and "Libertopia" specifically because she identifies as a libertarian but, in this specific instance, keeps well away from a certain species of fallacy to which naive libertarians are prone. Also, please note that I did not say that she had turned me against same-sex marriage, nor that the argument against which she argues is an argument upon which I base my support for legal recognition of committed same-sex relationships.


: Yeah: On BART I stood next to three speakers of Russian. I understood maybe every fifth word in Russian, but a few specific phrases in English:

Also, just as English speakers say "yeah" instead of "yes," Russian speakers will make the sound "d" instead of saying "da."

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: Before Copernicus: I had this very belief!

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: Blogger Turns Mainstream Media: Several weeks ago, I applied for a part-time job copyediting the "Bay Area Living" section for Alameda Newspaper Group (the Oakland Tribune, Hayward Daily Review, et al.). The powers that be liked my writing sample, so they gave me a column instead. My column, "MC Masala," starts today and runs Thursdays in "Bay Area Living."

I'VE BEEN ASKING MY DAD, for about 20 years now, for a handbook to being his daughter.

If anyone were to write a guide it would be him; my father has written more than anyone I know, even the bloggers. He may not be up there with Isaac Asimov, who wrote books landing in nine of the 10 major Dewey Decimal classifications. But compared to him, we're all slouches.

I hope you enjoy it. I'll post a link to the new column every Thursday.


: He Is Quite Pleasant: Just met Tom Brokaw.

Update:

Vinay: i think i told you my favorite tom brokaw story
Vinay: let me retell:
Vinay: after the 2001 terrorist attacks, you may remember how all the news anchors were doing 24 hr shifts
Sumana: yea
Vinay: at one point, tom brokaw (probably sleep-deprived), starts talking about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and he says "PBJs are always comfort food, especially with M&Ms in them."
Vinay: at which point, they cut to commercial break, and it's brian williams when they return


: That Never Fails: I couldn't find Pico, my favorite command-line text editor, on my computer at home. Then Leonard helped me discover that I already had Nano, a free Pico workalike. Now I can use that to write my column! Man, my third column is a mess. Trying valiantly to jerk it into shape. I know! I'll use a heavy-handed gimmick to pull the theme together!


: I'm Not Dead(line) Yet: On the minds of some US residents: the not-so-automatic four-month extension for filing federal taxes. California residents can get state-specific information.

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: The Title Is Much Dirtier Than The Reality: Bookslut needs columnists (check the left-hand sidebar). Many writers who read this journal would be ideal as Bookslut reviewers and columnists. Heck, Bookslut even accepted my review of Good Catholic Girls (the typos aren't mine).

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: Blissfully Sweating: I have now turned into one of those people who brings hot sauce to work. Today I splashed a fifth of a bottle of Sontava! habanero hot sauce on my lunch. "This is disputed by some, but the habanero is clearly the hottest pepper easily obtained and regularly consumed, though only by idiots."

I love putting hot sauce on the Trader Joe's soy enchiladas. In fact, when I see or think about the soy enchiladas, my mouth waters in anticipation of the hot sauce. Years ago I found a statue of Pavlov's dog and now I'm a prisoner of hot sauce.


: Frickin' Epistemology: I was worried because my editor at ANG hadn't sent me any revision requests for my April 14th column. Then I found out that she had none. So, either I underestimate my own writing, or my editor's standards are too low. I'll find out tomorrow.

Leonard will tell me something I've written is okay when I worry, and he constantly undervalues wonderful things he's made. Even though it is so five minutes ago to quote Paul Graham, maybe this is applicable: "I've found that people who are great at something are not so much convinced of their own greatness as mystified at why everyone else seems so incompetent."


: I Did Not Write The Headline: Today's MC Masala presents humorous and baffling moments of cross-cultural confusion.

We remember exceptions. Out of hundreds of BART rides, I remember the two ugly ones. A bit of unexpected praise can carry me for three weeks, as Twain said. And, even though almost no non-Indians do wince-worthy or laughable things when learning my name or ethnicity, there are the few.

Some anecdotes, then, to amuse and warn you.

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: Rejected Column Titles: A Selection:


: The Presses: I've scrap-booked my first two columns and am writing the third. People who know about scrapbooking (viz., all of Leonard's relatives) should feel free to email me with advice on preserving newspaper clippings.

The last time I did this was high school. In my high school journalism class, at the end of each semester, we created portfolios of our articles and submitted them for review by real reporters and editors from area newspapers. I snipped out my best news, opinion, feature, and sports articles, plus the one that had changed the most from inception to print, the one I liked the most, and the one I thought was best overall. (I never had enough sports stories.) In an unusual (for high school) move, the teacher did not look over our shoulders to check that we'd fulfilled our breadth requirements before we turned them in. He held us responsible for checking them ourselves.

The whole process, like much of that class, disoriented me. I was good at memorizing and regurgitating facts and formulae, or at performing very structured and supervised tasks. But at the newspaper I had to take the initiative and solve my problems independently. My teacher was treating us like adults, but I was still a kid. I had no idea how to do that, so I floundered and felt painfully lost for most of the four years I spent on there. (Oh yeah, and my classmates made fun of me all the time. Wow, that hurt so much at the time and I haven't thought about it in years.)

I was so afraid of failure. And yet I was completely fine with running for class president and getting booed by thousands of my classmates. I basically have no idea what was going on in my head. I wonder what I'll think of Sumana 2005 in a few years.


: Indian-Style Popcorn: Last night Leonard showed me Goodbye, Lenin!, a funny and touching film about deception, history, and idealism. (Finding a local and independent video place within walking distance has done wonders for our movie-watching.) I'd found my mother's recipe for Indian-style popcorn while searching for tax documentation, so I enjoyed a nostalgia-evoking treat while watching a movie about a lost world.

INDIAN-STYLE POPCORN

Use an air-popper (or the microwave-and-paper-bag method) to pop kernels of popcorn. Use about half a cup of kernels. Discard the unpopped kernels that inevitably make their way into the popcorn.

In a big pot, heat several tablespoons of oil thoroughly but not to boiling. Add a not-quite-heaping teaspoon of cumin seeds, known as jeera in Indian cookery. Shut off the heat. Add a heaping teaspoon of curry powder, also known as rasam powder or saurin puddi. Optional: add a quarter-teaspoon of extra turmeric if you want a really bright color on the spiced popcorn.

Shake or stir the spices in the oil. When you can really smell them, mix the popped popcorn with the heated oil, shaking and stirring. Add a not-quite-heaping teaspoon of sugar and salt to taste.

For best results, pour the popcorn and scrape the hot spicy oil into a paper bag and shake vigorously. Serve while still hot. Makes enough for one person to munch throughout one movie.


: Questions To Ask Potential Flatmates: Someone asked me for advice on living with a flatmate or roommate. What questions should one ask in advance to ferret out and defuse potential problems? I have a list. It's huge. Unfortunately, some questions require metacognition in the interviewee.


: Berkeley Day: Yesterday I got to see some Berkeley friends, a species that dwindles a little slower than that of unmarried friends.

I helped the Open Computing Facility install a couch. Alexei introduced me to some friends and we talked about religion. Alice and Steve and I talked about relationship issues and air-quotes. Do the British just use one finger instead of two for air-quotes?

The Jamba Juice category of drinks that have especially healthful effects is "Functional Flavors."


: Reruns: At 1000 Howard Street, Unit B, near the intersection of Sixth and Howard streets in downtown San Francisco, there is a used clothing store known variously as Rerun, Re-run, Reruns, and Re-runs. Its actual name is Reruns and every item in its stock sells for a dollar (plus tax). Yesterday I visited, bought a shirt and two pairs of pants, and enjoyed excellent customer service, a huge inventory and low, low prices. Recommended!


: "obsessed with clocks" - SO CUTE: I actually believe that people frequently ask these questions.

There are people in the word who abbreviate "collaboration" as "collabo"?! Also, yes, if your paragraph is more than a page long, it is no longer a paragraph. It is a monster.


: A Cappella Clips: I used to love listening to DeCadence when I went to UC Berkeley. Now I can buy albums or download MP3s of song clips on their site! Man, I wish I could get a recording of "Pop Nightmare," their medley of something like twelve then-popular songs. It was transcendent.


: Good Luck With It: Come see Will Franken tomorrow night at the Marsh.

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: Reshma Won't Like This: In today's MC Masala I compare "Namaste America" with "Showbiz India" and "India Waves" and mock my own inability to speak Hindi.

"Showbiz India" also features movie reviews, notices of the week's DVD releases and yet more gossip. Evidently every South Asian except me waits with bated breath for news about Shahrukh Khan's next project. (You may remember Khan from every Bollywood movie since 1996.)

Enjoy!


: Chagrin: I used to find the ads for St. Mary's emergency room playful. The billboards show a person about to have a comical accident, and promise emergency room care within thirty minutes. These promises hurt health care workers.

Another source of chagrin: a critic took a column about Indian media as evidence that all I write about is "not being white." Wow! I had no idea that there was nothing more to my ethnicity and culture than a lack of whiteness! This explains so much! Also, all feminists have penis envy!

I can understand a person getting sick of the Amy Tan stuff - "oh, I am so torn and bicultural" over and over gets old. So I started out with those columns, and now I'm pausing those for TV reviews ("service journalism") and other light material. For a person to mistake "Bollywood shows you might enjoy" for "The Mistress Woman Warrior Joy Luck Spices Club" betrays a stunning lapse in cognition.

Oh yeah. The main chagrin: that I let her get to me before realizing her complaint was [expletive denoting worthless matter].


: Batteries It Is: The ugly little cubes that plug into a power outlet and recharge a phone or power a mobile cassette recorder or what have you have a special name. The hip call them "wall warts." Tonight I am upending the house in search of the wall wart for my tape recorder. Any wart supplying 3 volts of direct current would suffice. I found 4.5V, 15V, 3.7V, all sorts of mutually incompatible adapters instead. Standards, people!

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: Nandini Is Not Actually Indianer-Than-Thou: Today's MC Masala references the Indians-drive-Toyota-Corollas stereotype. (Should the plural be "Toyotas Corolla"?) There's a funny and sad moment in Spellbound when a spelling bee contestant who has never heard the word "corollary" wonders whether the word origin has "Corolla" in it.

For future use: The Sideshow reminded me of tips to make prose look less amateurish.

Anyway. Excerpt from today's column:

"I don't care" helps until you graduate from high school, go to a job or college, and realize that caring is the engine that keeps you going when no one is forcing you to do what he or she wants.

Enjoy.


: Spoiler: Starring Scott Bakula: I'm writing an article or two for Salon about the end of Star Trek: Enterprise. Paramount sent me plot spoilers for all the remaining episodes, as well as a rough-cut DVD of the final two-parter. I lorded this over my colleagues at Salon. Well, my colleagues in the production/engineering department. I think no one in editorial gives a hoot about Star Trek.


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