Snoring: The Upshot

Google "snoring" and you'll get a flood of how-to advice on how not to, and a lot of reasons to stop. Not surprisingly, the majority of links recalled were advertisements for devices, medications, surgical maneuvers, and their purveyors. In today's pharm-centered universe, the vibration caused by air traveling through our airways has been pathologized and vilified as the destroyer of otherwise sound relationships. Not only is it bad for your love life. Snoring is deadly! According to snoring alarmists, snorers who have the audacity to continue sleeping noisily can look forward to myriad cardiovascular disorders including heart attacks, atherosclerosis, and stroke, marital and erectile dysfunction (chicken-or-the-egg?), drowsiness, lack of focus and...Zzzzzzzzz. Admittedly, I'm no doctor, but let me suggest that there are some positive effects of snoring (besides the possibility that it keeps you healthy by means of temporary asphyxiation). It's a much cheaper and more effective method of subjecting those around you to intense jealousy ("Please, please, make him stop so I can lose consciousness ASAP") than, say, buying a pair of Jimmy Choos. Then again, I don't usually begrudge those masochists the pain of walking around... But I digress. If you would rather not invest in a medical solution, you could try banishing the banshee by learning a new instrument. You guessed it: the Didgideroo! Ah, it's time for bed. Maybe the lumbering Saint Bernard downstairs will give it a rest so I can, too.

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Why are all the Youtube stars from LA?

Youtube was supposed to be one of Web 2.0's shining examples of user-generated original content. In a world (in 2005) when everything worthwhile was already online and fully consumed, Youtube was supposed to provide us with a new outlet to both create and consume. I know it is hard to recall Youtube's original intent as a creative landscape, but keep in mind that the site's slogan was and is "Broadcast Yourself". Most of us don't broadcast ourselves, or watch broadcasts of other selves. The last time I fired up Youtube, I was looking for a free way to stream James and the Giant Peach. Any cute skits or beautiful shorts I discovered thereafter were barely bonuses; they were just tasty little incidentals to be quickly forgotten. Most people go to Youtube to view unoriginal creations- movie, TV and music clips or mashups thereof. Youtube's most viewed videos of all time are music videos like "7 Things" by Miley Cyrus and Rihanna's "Don't Stop the Music". My little sister uses Youtube as a combination DVR-Itunes-Pandora player. Nothing original seeps in unless I send it to her myself- and then it's usually just a video of a cute animal, not a creative work. Ah, but Youtube does have some high-caliber producers of original goodies! People who put on elaborate comedy skits with costumes, professional lighting and substantial editing. People who pull in millions of views. People with whom Youtube has formed profitable, advertising-driven partnerships. These people are broadcasting themselves. But they aren't like "us". They are all from Hollywood.

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Naked Bike Ride (St. Louis) 2009: to protest dependency on oil and to celebrate our bodies

Last year, I reported on the 2008 Naked Bike Ride in St. Louis, the first ever in my home town. The official purposes are twofold: to protest dependency on oil and to celebrate our bodies. It's also a blast riding through town without having to worry about motor vehicles and without having to wonder what one's fellow travelers look like naked (or almost naked). cool-waving-shot This year's St. Louis Naked Bike Ride occurred tonight, with perfect temperatures for not wearing much of anything or not wearing anything at all. I'd make a wild guess and say that there were about 1,000 bike riders tonight, 70% of them male. I'd also guess that about 20 of them were riding completely naked. I saw people from 16 to 70 years of age. Lots of camaraderie--the riders were warning each other of potholes and other road hazards. I only saw a few spills--luckily, those falls involved people with some clothing to protect them. total-nakedness The genius of this event's marketing is that every local media outlet was out there reporting on the event. Imagine having a clothed bike ride to protest oil dependency. You would probably only have the attention of a few eccentric bloggers like me. Speaking of which, I was there tonight (wearing boxers), riding a course that was modified (shortened to about 7 miles) at the last minute, apparently to avoid the outflow of a huge crowd from a Cardinal Baseball game downtown. We wouldn't want those people to be embarrassed were we to ride by and see them dropping exorbitant amounts to amuse themselves--$50 for tickets and $7 for hot dogs. Not while we--the naked and almost naked riders--were out there protesting oil and admiring and celebrating each others' nakedness, all for free. I would like to point out that the aim of this bicycle ride to celebrate our bodies is not a trivial issue. Refusing to celebrate the human body is closely related to our refusal to consider that humans are animals. These two dyfunctions are the cause of constant needless and useless human suffering. See this earlier post on terror management theory and this post on the dysfunction that stems from our failure to accept that humans are animals.

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Fun gets it done.

When I was in seventh grade, I got a C in my typing class. I could not apply myself to the dull Mavis Beacon exercises intended to impart perfect QWERTY precision. I hen-pecked my way through the course (badly), always sneaking spare minutes of games like Brick-Out whenever the instructor walked out of view. I found the class utterly miserable, and I did not learn how to type. I now type proficiently and do not see the task as a chore. For the purpose of this writing, I pulled up a quick typing test and achieved a speed of 95 WPM- pretty decent. In the old Mavis Beacon days, I probably two-finger-typed a speed of 25 or 30 WPM. What magic instructive program brought me up to speed?

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