Out of Form

Here's another non-traditional post in as many weeks (I know this makes little sense but I really like saying 'in as many weeks').
This is the letter I'm writing to my congressional representatives about health care. In the second paragraph I talk about my personal relationship to the health care debate. I hadn't really thought about this until recently, but I know a lot of people who are going to be completely screwed unless meaningful healthcare reform passes. Anyways people need to make sure we let congress know how we feel. Don't let the right wing drown us out.

Dear Representative Charles Rangel,

My name is Joseph Moll and I am a chemistry graduate student at Columbia, a loyal Democrat, and a constituent. I just finished giving a financial donation through ActBlue to the members of the house who have committed to voting against any health care bill that does not include a strong public health care option. I was disappointed to note that my representative’s name is not on that list. I urge you to stand with your progressive colleagues and also make a commitment to vote against any bill without a strong public option.

I take the issue of affordable universal coverage seriously. I have fairly poor coverage through Columbia University although luckily I am young and healthy. Many of my friends and family are not in the same situation. Two of my brothers are completely uninsured. My sister and her husband are both currently unemployed and their family of five is only able to afford a bare bones health insurance plan (with a deductible of $10,000 before 80% coverage kicks in). I sincerely hope nothing happens to one of my three nephews. If a bill is passed that mandates her family to purchase coverage but doesn’t provide them an affordable option (like a strong public option), that’s not fair. They and many others will be understandably angry. Meanwhile, one of my best friends is also in graduate school and unable to afford insurance. While we were undergraduates together she had her thyroid removed because of a medical condition. When she became too old to be on her parent’s health insurance plan, she had to quit taking the drugs which were providing her the hormones a normal person’s thyroid would produce. All she can do is ‘hope’ that nothing bad will come from this. (When she visited me in New York city, we had to take cabs or the subway even very small distances, because of the danger if she were to overexert herself without a thyroid).

Needless to say this is a very personal debate for a lot of Americans. If Congress passes and the President signs a meaningless, watered down health care bill, we will not be happy. As I see it, the progressive members of the house who are standing up for a public option are the American people’s last defense against this happening. I urge you, Congressman Rangel, please join them.

Joseph

The Fifth Chapter

The following is the fifth Chapter in the book I'm trying to write. The reading level is kind of elementary school, but I'm going to make up for that later by adding in lots of gratuitous violence and sex (such that the book is only appropriate for very, very old people). Because honestly, who likes kids. Also, this is an early draft. Also, this doesn't make much sense standing alone. Rest assured that it still doesn't make a lot of sense in the context of the whole book. That's sort of my style:

Chapter 5:

"You've got to try this," Theodore was telling Timmy. "Bilawel taught me how to make it." Timmy waited expectantly for his brother's newest experiment.
"We put the cheerios into some marshmallows, add some milk, and then microwave it. I just hope I get the ratios right. I'm using colored marshmallows, they're more nutritional." Theodore was taking advantage of Timmy's gullibility. He filled the bowl to the brim with marshmallows, sprinkled some cheerios on top, added a few tablespoons of milk and microwaved it on high for two minutes.
"It's very mushy, but I still better blend it too, don't you think?" Theodore asked Timmy. Timmy couldn't say for sure because the bowl was being held much too high for him to see its contents, but Theodore was nodding so Timmy nodded along with him. Theodore grabbed a spoon and started scooping the brownish rainbow colored mush into the blender.
"I don't think it's supposed to be so brown," he said. "I'll add some food coloring. Why don't we make it red." He poured half a bottle of red food coloring into the blender and hit blend. A faint smell of burning began to fill the room. The motor was struggling, and probably would have failed if it weren't for the addition of a lifetime's worth of red 40, some of which had managed to trickle down near the blades. Still, not much blending was going on. Theodore gave up and scooped the treat into a bowl that he placed on the floor next to Timmy. Timmy cautiously stuck his finger into the reddish brown goop with watery red die in an indentation near the center, where it had managed to mostly collect. It looked like a volcano of blood, whose base had been formed from layer upon layer drying over millenia. Once Timmy tasted it, he was satisfied. It was quite a bit better than what Theodore usually fed him.
"What a mess!" Theodore said. He grabbed the gooped up blender and shoved it to the very back of the dishwasher, underneath a large pot, so his mother would not find it.
"Okay," he said, "I've got to do my homework. You can come watch me in the dining room, but don't bother me." He shook his head, indicating no. Timmy shook his head. He picked Timmy up, who was clutching to his marshmallow bowl, and headed to the dining room table. He set Timmy on top and got down his algebra book from the nearby shelf.
Theodore began trying to work on his homework. Timmy was using his left hand to clutch his dessert tightly to his chest and kept gooping his right fingers into the bowl. He would then stick them all together in his mouth, pull them out with a big pop, and giggle before going in for another dip.
Theodore looked up and glared, "Stop making so much noise, I've almost got this one."
The front door slammed and a few seconds later their older brother Benjamin walked in, looking upset. When he saw Timmy and Theodore he couldn't help but smile a little. "I know you like to experiment, Theo, but isn't it going too far to feed Timmy poop?" At this point Timmy shoved his face into the now nearly empty bowl in an attempt to lick out its remaining contents
"That's gross," Theo said, making a face. Timmy pulled his face out of the bowl, and scrunched it up in an imitation of Theo’s disgusted expression. His brothers smiled at him and he shyly returned to his marshmallows.
"Do you like your poop?" Benjamin walked up to Timmy and gently pulled his face out of the bowl using a tuft of hair at the base of his neck. Timmy smiled and nodded and then tugged his head away so he could give his full concentration to the bowl.
Benjamin laughed. His good mood didn't last too long. Especially when he saw Theo happily doing algebra homework. Benjamin was also learning algebra, and not nearly as easily. It naturally bothered him how quickly his little brother took to it. He sat down and started complaining.
"I've had a terrible day. Mom gave me a package to take to the post office this morning, a new draft of her paper that she was sending to her friend, Dr. Wilkinson. Of course the line in the post office was stretching to the sidewalk. And then when I finally got done, this little girl insulted me. She was on the steps outside," Theodore was struggling to concentrate on his homework, "and she asked my name. 'Ben', I said. Then she started chanting, 'Ben's a girl, Ben's a girl, I found a pearl on that girl.' 'No you didn't' I said. "I think that showed her."
"Yeah," Theodore murmered.
"I hated today so far," Benjamin replied, "and it's not even halfway done." Timmy was now done with his treat and crawling around the table, making quite a mess wherever he touched. Unfortunately this eventually ended up being Theodore's homework.
"Come on," Theodore said. "I can't concentrate, and now my homework's a mess. And by the way, your day didn't sound all that bad. You just love to complain. I'm going outside to study. I can't even turn this in." He grabbed his homework, crumpled it up, and threw it on the floor. He picked up his algebra book, a pen, and some fresh pieces of paper, and headed out of the dining room. A few seconds later the front door slammed.
"Sorry Theo," Benjamin said sarcastically. He picked up the homework and smoothed it out. "See you later little Timmy. I've got to go copy this over." He left the room, and poor Timmy, who was too little to get down from the table by himself, was left with nothing to do but sit and think.

*****

Theodore wasn't really upset. He just wanted to get back to his homework. He rushed down the stairs and out the front door, headed for the Riverside Park. It was then that he saw her, sitting on the steps outside the apartment building. She was Theodore's same age and he thought she was quite pretty, in a mad scientist sort of way. Her hair was a blonde/brown color and about double shoulder length. It hadn't been combed. She was wearing a sweatshirt that was too large along with patchy jeans and green sneakers. Her teeth were not particularly clean. She was whistling 'When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again'.
"Hey," she said, after seeing Theodore staring at her. She shrugged, in an effort at indifference, but her eyes were lighting up. "What's your name?" Her voice was pretty deep for a little girl.
"I'm Theo." Theo was scrambling to think of something to say that wouldn't make him sound too smart.
"I'm Erin." She said, smiling.
"I like your sweatshirt."
"Thanks, me too. It's too warm out for this sweatshirt, really. But I already left my jacket at home. I made a compromise, the weather should meet me halfway."
“I don’t think it works that way.” Theo corrected.
“What’s that you have in your hand?” she asked. Theo quickly hid his algebra book and papers behind his back.
“Nothing,” he said. He took a few steps backwards so that his back was against the railing along the stairs and his study materials were just hanging over the drop to the garbage collection area below. He considered letting go, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Erin looked skeptical for just a second, but then seemed convinced, forgetting what she had clearly seen a few moments ago.
“What are you doing out here anyways?” Theo asked.
“I’m just counting the number of boys and girls that go by. My dad and I just moved into this building so I’m gathering information.”
“So what have you figured out so far.”
“It’s hard to tell, you can’t always be sure who’s a boy and who’s a girl. I consider a lot of factors, hair length, name, jewelry, eye color.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe to you, I suppose you’d just trust any one was whatever gender they told you. My dad taught me to be more discerning.” Erin looked a little angry. The use of the word ‘discerning’ from some one his same age sent a shiver through Theo. He decided he really liked this girl.
“No, of course not,” Theo shook his head vigorously, trying to make her happy. But he was naturally confused. He tended to trust that people were the gender they claimed to be.
“But to answer your original question, mostly girls…” she said, “but that’s only natural, considering there are more of us.” She dragged a dirty hand through her tangled hair. “Anyways,” she continued, “do you want to go do something?”
In his excitement, Theo almost dropped his book and had to bend backward over the rail to catch it just in time. “Yes,” he replied, while still bent unnaturally over the rail and with his face contorted in an attempt to hide his obvious excitement.
“Good, but I don’t want to do whatever it is your doing,” Theo quickly straightened himself up. “How about we go down to the post office and rile up the line. That’s what my older sister and I always used to do when we lived downtown.”
"Okay," Theo hesitantly replied, not sure what that would entail, but Erin was already on her way down the block to the post office. Theo stuffed his algebra materials between his back and his shirt, tucked them into his belt and then hurried after.
He caught up to Erin halfway down the block and only a few buildings away from the post office. She was talking to a tall, dark haired man in a business suit. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
"Sir, can you tell me which direction it is to the post office?" she was asking.
"I believe I saw a post office behind me," he answered. He gestured backwards. Theo nodded to himself, the nearest post office was halfway down the block and within clear sight. Maybe Erin wasn't as smart as he hoped.
"Come on Theo, we'll check this way." She turned around and started walking away from the post office and in the direction opposite where the man had gestured.
"But..." Theo began but before he could get any further, she grabbed his elbow, locked it in hers, and nudged him right in his gut. She then pulled forward, and they were marching together. Theo didn't object at all to locking elbows with this girl and was so caught up in his enjoyment he didn't finish his sentence. He squeezed her elbow with his to which she responded by pulling him forward even faster.
"Wait a second, I told you it was the other way," said the man in the business suit. Erin pulled Theo around so they were facing the man and glared. Theo's jaw was hanging open a bit from the excitement but when he saw Erin's expression he copied it with a glare of his own.
"I don't trust you!" Erin shouted. The man looked confused.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"What I mean is, what's your name?" Erin asked.
The man paused, "I'm Mr. Jones," he said.
"That name sounds made up," Theo said to Erin loudly, playing along now. She nodded her head. He wasn't sure if Erin was just messing around, but he was starting to not trust the guy for real.
"Listen, I told you the post office is down the street. You can pretty much see it from here. But if you really think I'm lying, go the other way, that's fine."
"We don't trust you, we've never trusted you, you're lying and this is our street. You're lying on our street." Erin shouted.
"Yeah, why don't you go lie on your own street!" shouted Theo.
"Come on Theo, we'll find the post office." They circled the block and ended up behind the guy, running the whole way. He had continued walking, and was just visible turning the corner.
"Why did we do that," Theo asked, as they approached the door to the post office from the other direction.
"Just for fun," Erin replied, "Okay, let's go rile up the post office line."
"But we're just kids," Theo said. "I don't think they'll let us in there if we don't have something to mail."
"You're right," Erin said. "Here, we'll get something to mail out of this blue mailbox depository." Theo seemed skeptical that the idea would work but before he had a chance to object Erin was grabbing his foot in order to boost him up. It seemed he was meant to be the one to reach in and grab something. He gently lifted his foot off her cupped palm and returned it to the ground.
"This is silly," he said nervously. "And pretty illegal. Maybe we can just go in without any mail."
"No you were right," said Erin, "at the first sign of riling they'll try and kick us out. We need to have a reason to stay and the reason is in that blue container." Theo looked very skeptical. "Come on," she said, looking hopeless, "I can't do it without you." Theo saw his opportunity to be a hero to his new friend, but was still hesitating. Erin could see she almost had him. "I'll create a distraction," she said. "No one will even know." She tried to pull off a wink, but it came out as a blink.
"I'll do it," Theo said courageously. "And while I'm doing it, you can create a brilliant distraction." Theo had barely finished his sentence when Erin was again boosting him up. He grabbed the latch to the mailbox depository, pulled it open and squirmed his way in. His body was bent at a right angle, with his upper half hidden from the world and his legs dangling out through the opening. Alas, there was a deficiency in the design of this (and all other) mailbox depositories. While one could easily put mail in, one could not easily retrieve mail. Luckily for Theo the box was exceptionally full and thus there were some envelopes just barely visible in the crack behind the lid. He went to work trying to pry one out.
Meanwhile, Erin, whose so called distraction (jumping jacks in front of the mailbox) was starting to draw attention, was getting a little panicky. Just then Dr. Sanderbagger showed up.
"What are you doing little girl," she asked.
"Um... I'm just trying to mail my package... um... I just mean maniquinn." She wasn't that great at thinking on her feet. In the past, her older sister had made up most of the details. "My dad just got so annoyed with him. He just said ventriloquism would be a dead end for me, just like it was for my mom. He just said put a stamp on him and dump him in the mail." She started nodding vigorously, very proud of her concoction.
Dr. Sanderbagger was very sad to see this little girl giving up her dreams. "Well, I'm sure your father has your best interests at heart," she said. "Here, let me help you." And with that they both grabbed one of the protruding legs and shoved with all their might. Poor Theo's head was thrust directly against the steel inside of the container. The jolt caused his algebra book, which had previously been tucked into his belt, to dislodge, slide down his back, slip through the neck of his shirt and hit his head from the other side. It then fell into the mailbox, out of reach. Theo grabbed one of the letters near the surface. At this point he had what he needed and his claustrophobia was really taking hold of him. He started kicking vigorously. He had to get out.
"Why is it kicking at us?" Dr. Sanderbagger asked.
"Oh, that's just an, um… reflexive mechanism," Erin replied. "Just put just one hand at the knees and you can just hold his legs straight." They both grabbed Theo's knees and, holding his legs straight, shoved him in as far as was absolutely possible. Theo was shoved just close enough to reach his algebra book, which he quickly grabbed.
"I think my Mannequinn's in good enough now." Erin said. "Thanks for your help."
Dr. Sanderbagger looked at the Mannequin skeptically. It really wasn't in at all. It's but was still hanging out of the blue mailbox and it's feet were dangling against the side. "Okay," she said skeptically. "I'll see you around little girl. What was your name?"
"I'm Sally," said Erin. They shook hands and Mrs. Sanderbagger headed down the street. As soon as she did Erin gave a small tug to Theo's right leg. He started climbing out, algebra book and a little blue envelope in hand.
At that moment Dr. Sanderbagger looked back to wave at the girl she believed to be Sally. Erin smiled and waved back and said through her teeth "stay behind the mailbox depository."
"Who was she?" asked Theo.
"I don't think it was a she, and whoever it was is heading straight into our building."
Theo ducked his head around the corner of the mailbox depository. "That's my mom!" he said.
Erin was a little embarrassed that she had questioned the gender of his mother. "What's that you have in your hand?" she asked. Theo held up the blue envelope. "No, your other hand." Theo looked down at the algebra book he was holding.
"Oh... I found this in the mailbox," he lied. "Looks kind of interesting."
Erin was already walking into the Post Office. "Come on," she said.
So he followed.

The People of State College Part Nineteen: The Dancer

I haven't updated this blog in a long time because I've been running out of material. But then I thought how almost daily I develop an obsession with a new guy. People would be interested in that, right. :) Also, I feel like my blog is lacking in real, very personal details about my life. Details that one would never feel secure in sharing with the world except in blog format. (This has been a reader complaint.) Also, The People of State College was always a very popular series.
I met the red headed subject of this post in State College a few weekends back when I was there for a weekend of research. I met him in Chumley's, the only gay bar in State college (although apparently the city used to have four separate gay bars in the seventies!). He was sitting by himself at the other end of the bar and would occasionally begin to dance rather violently to the music. Apparently he can't control this. The bartender invited him behind the bar to mix drinks and he ended up making one for me. Later in the evening, I stared at him. :) I think he noticed this because he moved to a different location in the bar, directly behind me. This may have been to prevent further staring but I interpreted it as an attempt to talk to me. Anyways, it came out that he was an astronomist (not a word but this is what I called him). The next night I danced with him a little at the club next to Chumley's, which has a gay friendly night once a week. I asked him to visit me for pride weekend. He declined. It was a tragic, short lived, and probably one sided romance. But I got another facebook friend out of it. (I'm almost above 100).

The Other Vegetarian Restaurant

Near Washington Square Park there are two fake meat vegetarian restaurants... Vegetarian Paradise Two and Red Bamboo. Three times previously I have gone down there to eat fake meat and see a movie at the IFC. I always wanted to try Red Bamboo but it inevitably had a line and Vegetarian Paradise Two did not. The people I go to see movies with are usually late and thus we are on a severe time schedule with no time to wait in line before eating. On Sunday I took my brother Dave down there just to try the fake meat(after seeing the Nutcracker). I figured that way, with nowhere to go, it wouldn't matter if we had to wait. But we didn't have to wait at all. Red Bamboo was very different. The staff were younger and more college studentish than at Vegetarian Paradise two. They were also significantly less Asian. When I used to pass Red Bamboo, I would note how much more hipsterish the establishment was. From the inside this was even more noticeable. They were playing Modest Mouse when we entered, and the Violent Femmes when we left. The couple to my right were talking about long distance relationships and relationships where it was too early to say I love you and all this stuff that I guess some people (real people?) talk about. The couple to my left was talking about food, but real hipsterish food. But since many of these details were one time things, I should describe what was specific about the restaurant. I guess the most important part about a restaurant is food, and I would say that Veg. Par. 2 had the better food... but the host at Red Bamboo was just attractive enough that I would go back there again, if there wasn't a line. I should have complimented him on his cool hoodie.

Rheometry

I got brand new 8mm plates last Monday! They're so shiny and smooth and beautiful! And the boxes are so black and shiny and sleek!...

Oh man, I've become a rheometer nerd. I guess it wouldn't be that bad if rheometry were at all interesting. It's not... But since the readers of this blog have no idea what rheometry is, I will use it to make me seem cool(er)... Unfortunately, the inevitable lies I will have to tell may cause some trust issues with readership. But wouldn't that be as much the readers fault as mine. Yes!!! Yes it would. And I'm not just saying that because of my blog policy of blaming all blog problems on readers. I honestly believe that if someone somewhere is made to answer for my lies it should be you, the readers. Because you are the ones that prop me up on a pedestal that I in no way deserve. You, readers, disgust me!

So... rheometry, you ask, what is it? Excellent question. I am surprised you don't know, but... In fact, few people know what rheometry is, even though it is the cornerstone of modern scientific research. I guess the public ignorance is simply a testament to the historic modesty displayed by rheologists (like myself). We work day in and day out, putting in twenty three and 1/2 hour days, getting society at large out of every catastrophe since the great depression. We don't expect thanks. (Although, money would nice... you guys know my address). But I've been avoiding the question. What is rheometry?

To understand rheometry, one must first understand a rheometer. Imagine a tall blue man with a long swan-like neck. At the halfway point the neck bends at an abrupt angle and from it protrudes a cube shaped monitor (the face). Beneath the monitor (on the man's chin) are several buttons. These are very fun buttons (they come with a guarantee). And what does the neck connect to? Why, a fat belly of course. Inside the belly of the beast lies the important hardware. And atop the belly sits the mans lone arm. A black contraption on wheels that rolls over to grab and heat samples of interest. Oh, also, using the blue man analogy this man has no legs. So the rheometer only has one "limb". Just like Max Cleland. This is fitting because Max Cleland is an American hero and so is a rheometer, in a way. Finally, some rheometers are tan in color.

The above paragraph explains every aspect of rheometers. From the description one can clearly see how wonderful rheometers are! Some readers may be thinking: "but I still have questions." This may be because of low intelligence and should probably be checked out by a doctor.

Now, to explain rheometry. It's not complicated. Rheometry is what one does with a rheometer. So if one understands what a rheometer is (and it was pointed out above that if you've read this far and don't understand, you're unintelligent) then you clearly understand rheometry. For those few who still don't understand I will give one final hint... rheos is the Greek word for flow. (I should write a rheology textbook).

Maybe...

My hair is so incredibly short right now, I'm thinking I should dye it. But what color?

The Past Week in New York

Sunday: I had dinner at Vegetarian Paradise Two (Lemon Duck) followed by Un Secret at the IFC

Monday: In the afternoon I had Soft Materials Laboratory. Afterward I went to a reading of George Bernard Shaw's 'Cesar and Cleopatra'. This was quite good, but the seats were uncomfortable. I went with a new potential friend (an older gentleman) who was introduced to me by a mutual friend from State College with the express purpose of him showing me the gay ropes of New York. Afterward we went to the bar Splash for Musical Monday. Musical Monday consisted of clips being shown on several screens of scenes from musicals (a surprising number of which I recognized). The bartenders there were frankly a little underdressed. I was scandalized.

Tuesday: French class in the evening. After this I went home and made up all my food for the rest of the week, as I was quite busy last week.

Wednesday: I left halfway through my Polymers class so that I could go see Equus. This is a play about a boy who blinds horses and has to go to a hospital to be cured. It stars Daniel Radcliffe of Harry Potter fame. He did a very good job. The play was quite good, too.

Thursday: French Class followed by a Haunted House in the evening. The haunted house tickets were free, I won them from Time Out New York. It was billed as the best haunted house in America. It was not scary whatsoever. I went with my friend Manasi and we were both disappointed. Afterward we went to a Mexican restaurant in Alphabet City that seemed quite nice. Too bad I'm never down in that area. Manasi was supposed to meet some friends immediately after the haunted house but we got done way early and she is incapable of being on time. So she suggested we get a drink. After I left Manasi, I didn't want the night to be a complete bust. So I called up my new gay mentor (who I first met on Monday) to see if he could recommend another place to me. He didn't answer. He had told me previously that on Thursday nights Splash skews young, and I vaguely remembered how to get back there so I went. It didn't skew quite as young as I would of liked and at any rate the only person I ended up talking to was much older than me. Oh well.

Friday: Went to the Chemistry happy hour. After about 40 minutes I had to leave for French. After French I returned and when the debate started we brought a projector up and watched it.

Saturday: I have done nothing today.