... you learn something new every day. One of my youngest uncles bought me a Lego set when I was a wee sprog; it ever got completed to the specs on the box when he opened it and showed me how to do it. I am ever fail at following instruction, much less constructing three dimensional structures. No wonder I never even contemplated architecture school. :p
But this guy? I would award him eleventy billion internet for this. Soooo cool.
Petri dish cookies inspired by Escherichia coli streaked on a nutrient agar. No complaining of the streaking technique; icing is a lot harder to work with than broth-and-inoculating loop.
Exploding brain + popped out eyes FTW!
Gingerbread men in aqua containment / clean room suits are so adorable. They look paranoid, though.
Zebrafish makes for an awesome haematopoiesis model because they are practically transparent during the juvenile stage (or so I'm told). Edible glitter simulates the translucence beautifully.
Atomic cookie + nucleus (proton + neutron+ electron represented yo!). Gorgeous and delicious.
Gingerbread scientists are so adorable and edible!
What's a laboratory without beakers, test tubes & Erlenmeyer flasks?
Drosophila melanogaster, the humble household fruit fly, has been the workhorse of genetics for decades.
Who says that scientific people are boring and not creative?
Kurt Vonnegut is one of those lauded authors whose books I am not tempted to seek. But if the graphs below were what he used to teach literature, man, what would I give to audit that class. *props chin in admiration*
The story arc of a romance novel. Tried and true trope it may be, but romance is still one of the largest and most profitable genre of the publication industry.
Staggered build up of this nature is usually pleasing to the readers of fairytales. Cynics would say that fairytales fall under the romance genre; however, the truth is that readers of the romance genre are generally discerning and clever. We may like the happy ending guarantee, but there has to be a plot that makes us keep flipping the page.
If you are into nihilistic, post modern literature (IDEK what that means), this is the story arc you get. By the end of the book, you would either be insensate from alcohol imbibement to dull the existential pain or bleeding out into your bathtub/on your bed/some random surface from the neat, parallel cuts on your inner forearm.
Ah, Hamlet. Did he get justice for his father? Were all his sacrifice worth it? If you want to know what Vonnegut thought of Hamlet and Shakespeare's writing skills go to the site whence I ganked these graphs (which would be here).
I had finally finished reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. Not knowing Swedish means I have to read the translated version by Reg Keeland. Some of the odd expressions littered in the book made me suspect that he made an effort to make sure that the original expression in Swedish is maintained.
It was a difficult first 60 or so pages for me; like a chemical reaction, the frenzy for devouring the book had a high activation energy threshold. But once I met Lisbeth Salander, it was like a napalm firestorm; I was ignited to consume to book in a single sitting. This was not possible as real life has a way of interfering with obsessions and a wage has to be earned.
Salander is completely out of my realm of experience. Damaged, brilliant, cunning, naive, dispassionate and yet vulnerable, Salander is a contradiction within a puzzle wrapped in an enigma (or however the expression is). She is quite the archetypal anti-hero(ine) who lives in the fringes of society; her wary forays into mainstream society often underscoring her prejudices of the bourgeoisie.
The conclusion of the book was very satisfying and yet I was ambivalent about getting the next book in the series. Salander (and Blomqvist) is not a character that I find comfortable to read; (I usually stick to happily ever afters) but somehow, as I left my rental book store, I found The Girl Who Played with Fire in my hands.
In this part of the world, there is little mention about how casual Fridays are getting out of hand. Personally, I love it when the gents dress with circumspection; i.e. to suit the occasion.
Don't get me wrong; I do enjoy men in their comfy casuals like slouchy t-shirts and jeans / footie jersey and cargoes, but there's something about a well turned out man that just makes one's mouth water.
It used to be a rite of passage for a guy to get the first pair of suit bespoke by a tailor introduced to him by his father. However, as casual fashion becomes more and more pervasive, this is a lore that one only read in books of the silverspoon genre. More and more workplace tolerate dressy casuals and suits become something that is relegated to either rarefied circles or tolerated for weddings/funerals/etc.
I think one of the reasons why Arthur of Inception received a great deal of attention in fandom is because of the way he dressed. Who would have expected a sombre looking guy in a three-piece suit to be kickin' ass and taking name in such style?
Observe:
He brought back the panache that was embodied by Sean Connery when he was James Bond; a man in a sharp suit armed with a rapier mind, ambiguous moral code and laser honed reactions. A capacity for violence masked by the veneer of civility lent by the suit is incredibly alluring and seductive (but only when directed against the bad guys, of course).
But that's a fictional character, you gentlemen may say. What about an ordinary Joe who doesn't have a personal trainer to keep his waistline trim or the funds for a bespoke wardrobe?
Well, a man doesn't need licence to kill to be a lady killer, you know. For the formal occasions, look for a well-fitting suit (you may need to alter off-the-rack acquisitions) in a style and colour that flatters you (navy is a safe bet for all skin tone). Team them with cotton shirts in hues that enhances your complexion and a natty tie (matching, naturallement); learn to accessorise with cuff links or even pocket squares. Polish your shoes. Buy socks that is NOT white. Experiment with what looks best for you.
But what about the physical constraints and discomfort of wearing suits in equatorial weather? It may surprise you but there *are* fabrics for tropical weather suits. Cotton, linen suits can be very dashing and are lightweight to accommodate high temperatures (but not humidity). There are also summer-weight wool blends that can work beautifully in tropical latitudes. You *do* have options.
For those who don't wish to look like a mindless corporate drone, why not add your own personal signature to your style? If you need ideas, visit The Sartorialist; he documents ordinary people with extraordinary style with his fabulous photographs.
Traditional dress like baju melayu and kurta can also be incredibly flattering. I recall fondly the guys participating in bara'an (Javanese tradition of visiting house-to-house in a large group to sing praises to the Prophet Muhammad PBUH during the first few days of Eid-ul-Fitr to bring blessings to the host) decked in their Hari Raya finery of baju melayu complete with songkok and kain sampin. No matter what colour of material they chose, or the body it draped, the ensemble brings out the best in them: emphasising the breadth of the shoulders, minimising the portness of the tummy and even giving height to the vertically challenged ones.
Therefore, gentlemen, do take due consideration when selecting your garments. Because we love to appreciate you at your best. That's not saying that we don't appreciate you when you want to get down and comfortable, we are just saying that a little pride in your appearance goes a long way.
In praise of well dressed men, here is Barney Stinson serenading his true love in life: his sartorial elegance.
Ganked from manticore's FB update, thank you very much.
Results will vary and any prison/death/lifelong embarrassment -related outcome may ensue.
While on the topic of ingestible material, there are some food that should also be categorised as dangerous/controlled substance. If you are what you eat, why would you eat these?
*shudder*
It's okay, I don't need to prove mine is bigger than yours.
However, if consuming questionable materials/chemical/food in the chase of that adrenaline rush doesn't do it for you, why not try blowing things up to exercise your creativity? Marvelously, there are books that will teach you how to create your own IED without stepping out of your house. For the aspiring Unabombers out there, check out this page in Amazon.com.
I kept re-watching this and it cracks me up every single time. The earnestness of Matt Damon is just so twee. It's not new but the pure lulz factor is awesome.
Among ants and certain other social insects, an association in which a small species feeds on the refuse of a neighbouring nest inhabited by a larger species, or robs returning workers of the host species of the food they are carrying. Hence kleptobiotic.
When confronted about his shaking down of the juniors for their lunch money, Harry earnestly replied that he was merely obeying the natural imperative of kleptobiosis.
Next time you get into a bar brawl, don't drink up all the beer first before smashing the bottle over your opponent's head. An empty bottle takes more energy to break. The damage: Not so different.
If you are a hardcore gambler, reading this research article may make you want to go out and find the best way to damage your prefrontal cortex. Apparently, you make a better gambler if you feel no fear.
Yeah, try telling that to those with the ah longs breathing down their neck.
Categorising organisms is a scientific discipline brought to organised form by Carolus Linnaeus (is my nerd-dom obvious?). Is labelling things a biological imperative? Why do we feel compelled to identify things (even people) into neatly labelled boxes?
Sexual identity is one of them. How many of us enjoy a titillating whisper speculating on whether X is gay and does his wife know it? We hear of cases where children kill themselves after being jeered as gay by their schoolmates. Being labelled accurately (or inaccurately) can be hurtful, especially if the label is perceived in a negative manner. The best case scenario is that we no longer attach negative connotations to any labels, but that is pure fantasy.
Nevertheless, is it necessary to let people know whether we are straight/gay/bi/asexual/pansexual?
What business is it of theirs anyway? Unless they are a potential bedmate, I don't see why it would be of relevance to them. Even if you did end up in bed with said person, it is still not of relevance to them.
It may only be relevant if you decide to make a commitment to that person; in which case, I do believe in total disclosure. I see no reason why a gay person (male or female) should not get into a heterosexual marriage, so long as both parties are willing to stick by their vows (To love and cherish faithfully, till death etc etc etc). Sexuality is NOT an excuse to be unfaithful (yeah, Jim McGreevey, this means you); you chose to marry that person, commit to a family life with that person, so you damn well better stick to your end of the agreement, bud.
However, with the famewhore mentality that seems to be pervasive, it appears that people feel a need to let the world know of who/what they are. Look, at the end of it, who cares whom you like to bang (unless you're Roman Polanski)? I agree wholeheartedly with Ms Moreno on her post Gay? Straight? Get Over It. When it comes to treatment of non-heteronormative characters on television/silver screen, I prefer the way the Europeans do it; with a shrug and "let's move on" nod without the drama and obsequiousness that we see in Hollywood.
So unless you're like this guy (see bottom), there is no need to tell all and sundry about whom you'd like to kick the sheets with, yeah?
As a GenXer, one should be a little more understanding, coming from a tough sell generation that has been dubbed as cynical slackers with no real ambition or impact on the world. Yeah, no doubt you had moments of wanting to yank your hair out by the roots because the dumb intern refused to write a letter / e-mail without using gibberish texting acronyms (W U?!) but once upon a time someone else had bashed their head on the desk at the sight of you as well.
Frankly, I believe that the GenYers face a great deal more challenge than we did. They are bombarded with so many messages that rivals an ADHD with no Ritalin on a sugar high. Yes, they have the advantage of technology (home PC, laptops, highspeed Internet connection, mobile phones etc), but it also means more pressure for them to stay connected, to out-perform and to be the one to be noticed in a crowd. For those who lament that this generation do not know how to take care of themselves or do the simplest chores, remember that they are the generation raised by maids and had no other job except to study and go for tuition / dance / music / art classes.
GenYers are also under pressure to excel in a terrifying way. The pressure to take more than 10 subjects for their high school exam., to score all A's, to be the best athlete, the best performer, the best writer etc etc etc is something we never had to contend with. Granted that the SPM during our time was tough enough that getting 8 A's makes you the wunderkind of the district, sometimes even at state level. Since so many people are obtaining a gazillion of A's, university entrance become extremely competitive and they have to work ever so much harder to distinguish themselves from their peers.
We can afford a childhood rife with play time, exploring our neighbourhood with friends and generally just being a child. We had little fear of strangers and except for the odd, racist fear mongering of our elders ("If you are naughty, I will sell you to the cloth merchant Bengali!") we are relatively footloose and fancy free. We didn't worry about being bullied online (our bullies prefer being up close and personal), we didn't worry (overmuch) about passing the exams, we didn't worry about the environment that we were despoiling, we didn't worry on whether the economic cake was enough for us as well and ad nauseam the worries that plague kids born after 1990.
And many of us forget that the target of our rants are just a small percentage of the population of GenY. These are the privileged, middle to upper class kids who come from two income families. We forget those who slip between the cracks, the children of the urban poor (many who turn into Mat/Minah Rempit to spend their time or relieve the pressure they face) or the rural poor who struggles because they are not equipped to face the changing economy.
So let's not be an old fart and give the kids today a break.
For men to be unfaithful, apparently mathematics is not required (either that or scientists haven't bothered analysing such a common and unremarkable phenomenon).
Eco-friendly pest control is all the rage. It took the near-demise of the bald eagle to stop the world from using DDT to control mosquitoes (a move said to have inadvertently drove up the number of malaria cases)and other agricultural pests for us humans to learn that, "Dude, you gotta also look at the bigger picture."
I was flipping channels one night and had the poor chance to watch the "Telephone" video clip, courtesy of MTV Asia. Like an insect caught in amber, I was paralysed and unable to change the channel; hence my watching it in its entirety.
I have known that Lady Gaga isn't a believer of titillation; rather, she courts outright revulsion, but seriously, that video clip is about as sexy as pornography.
*shudder*
I wish I had seen this video right after I had seen that mental rape of a video. Now *this* video embodies sexiness in a textured and visually delectable manner. Oh, it also helps that the deliciously sinister Mr Eric Roberts is featured in it *bites lip*.
To make up for calling his girlfriend's pet beaver a rug rat, Owen paid for and sat through a Lady Gaga concert and considered this an act of satispassion.
