Mr. I-Change-My-Rap-Name-Practically-Every-Fortnight (c'mon, you know who I mean...) vs. The Late, Great TUPAC SHAKUR

I heard mention of this on the radio when I was driving on the wrong side of the road and car in Ireland this past week. For obvious reasons (seriously, driving on the right side of the car, on the left side of the road is surprisingly mentally taxing), I couldn't listen too closely. I Googled for recent news on the Tupac Shooting Scandal and found this...

God, I fucking knew it. I've been saying it for years, most commonly whenever I hear the Tupac-Biggie collaboration Living to Die:

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-naw-quad17mar17,0,4451053.story

An excerpt (bold mine):

It was a portentous moment in hip-hop -- the start of a bicoastal war that would culminate years later in the killings of Shakur and rap's other leading star, Christopher Wallace, better known as the Notorious B.I.G.

The ambush at the Quad remains a source of fascination and frustration to music fans and law enforcement officials alike. No one has ever been charged in the attack.

Now, newly discovered information, including interviews with people who were at the studio that night, lends credence to Shakur's insistence that associates of rap impresario Sean "Diddy" Combs were behind the assault. Their alleged motives: to punish Shakur for disrespecting them and rejecting their business overtures and, not incidentally, to curry favor with Combs.

The information focuses on two New York hip-hop figures -- talent manager James "Jimmy Henchman" Rosemond and promoter James Sabatino, who is now in prison for unrelated crimes.

FBI records obtained recently by The Times say that a confidential informant told authorities in 2002 that Rosemond and Sabatino "set up the rapper Tupac Shakur to get shot at Quad Studios." The informant said Sabatino had told him that Shakur "had to be dealt with."

R.I.P. Notorious B.I.G. Tupac, I'll see you 'round College Park. (Maryland, not Georgia.)

So SaRadar

Things that have interested me recently:

1. According to DCist, Amsterdam Falafel in Adams Morgan now accepts Euros! This is strange and interesting to me. It's incredibly strange that a falafel join in D.C. accepts Euros, considering they aren't even accepted in all the countries of the EU! It's interesting though, economically. I wonder how many people they can scam into buying their falafels in Euros, in turn running away with the (currently excellent) exchange rate? At any rate, it's an appealing way to get rid of foreign currency that you forgot to spend in duty free or buying booze on the plane over international waters.

p.s. Billy's Antiques on East Houston Street in Manhattan accepts Euros, Canadian Dollars, Great British Pounds, and regular old U.S. dollars.

2. The Vatican lists seven new deadly sins, here and here. The new deadly sins include: 'bioethical' violations (such as birth control), 'morally dubious' experiments (such as stem cell research), drug abuse, polluting the environment, contributing to widening divide between rich and poor, excessive wealth, and creating poverty. In addition to the regular, traditional seven deadly sins (pride, envy, gluttony, lust, anger, greed and sloth), we probably all commit at least one of them regularly. Our souls are all doomed. Bishop Gianfranco Girotti, head of the Apostolic Penitentiary, the Vatican body which oversees confessions and plenary indulgences, said that

“You offend God not only by stealing, blaspheming or coveting your neighbor’s wife, but also by ruining the environment, carrying out morally debatable scientific experiments, or allowing genetic manipulations which alter DNA or compromise embryos.”

Oh really? That offends God? Having just finished reading The God Delusion, I can only wonder what Dawkins has to say about all this. I'm guessing a forum debate will likely ensue.

3. University of California at Berkeley's Research on Color and Language would probably interest Wittgenstein. Researcher Paul Kay aims to determine if babies, who have not yet developed language skills, process color recognition using the left of right hemisphere of their brains. It has been proven that adults use the left, but this is also the hemisphere most of us use to process language. It seems Kay is essentially trying to answer a Euthyphronic question scientists and philosophers have been toying with for years: 'Is something red because we say it is, or do we say it's red because it actually is?' I think speculations about color, perception, etc. in ourselves in relation to other people is fascinating.

4. LAist and Satan's Ice Cream Truck. Listen to the freaky sound clip.

Weird things

Today was a strange day. I've decided to document the strangeness in my blog so I can look back and laugh at it later.

(I am also bored, waiting for water to boil so I can whip up a culinary masterpiece for dinner. Okay, maybe not a culinary masterpiece. You got me on that one... But, at the very least, something edible. Point being, to use a common colloquialism, a watched pot never boils. Better to blog instead. That crazy pot will be boiling before you know it!)

Anyway, today started off like any normal day. I woke up, took a shower, ate breakfast and drank a huge cup of coffee so that I would have a head start on my daily caffeine intake and not have to subject myself solely to the disgusting coffee we brew at work. I went to work, responded to a few emails, updated the website, wrote Mike a long email, read through my RSS feed, and knocked back a cup of gross work coffee. The Asian man that delivers fruit on Mondays and Wednesdays arrived around 11 and we chatted for a bit. He's going on vacation to Hungary soon. Apparently he has family there. I told him about my upcoming vacation to Ireland and how I'm a bit nervous about driving on the left side of the road. He told me he has only been driving for a year AND he drives in Copenhagen, where the threat of hitting a wary, self-righteous, or just plain dumb cyclist is constantly imminent. His magi-like Asian wisdom, along with a delicious apple from the crates of fruit he brought, gave me confidence and hope. I'll be okay in Ireland.

Since I had, in actuality, just been waiting around at work all morning for the fruit to arrive, my work in the office was done for the day. Around 1pm I left the office for the rest of the day to go on an "adventure" to the suburbs of Copenhagen to hang up fliers and posters and such advertising for people to become a host family or roommate for our students. Today was gorgeous, and warm! I pedaled off to the suburbs, excited to be out of the office on such a nice day.

Once I was in the suburbs, I got the distinct Dorthy-esque feeling that I was not in Kansas any more... The 'burbs of Copenhagen are, in terms of retail opportunities, very different from the city. I guess it's this way in any city... I just haven't really been out in suburban areas for awhile, so I'd forgotten. On my way to grocery stores, malls, laundromats, etc. to hang up my signs, I saw stores with words in their names that are remarkably different from anything you ever see in cosmopolitan Copenhagen. Words like 'afro' and 'tattoo.' Hmmm... strange.

The next strange thing that happened at my journey happened because I decided to take a break from my biking to actually walk around one of the grocery stores in which I was hanging a flier. I chose Aldi Marked (which is a German discount grocery brand, but I'm pretty sure they have stores in America and I've definitely seen stores all over Europe) because I haven't been in one for a very long time. I don't think there are any in my area, so I decided to check out their selection, just for fun.

Aldi is mostly unremarkable, and actually quite ghetto. They don't have any name brand things. It's very strange. It's almost like going to a dollar store. One thing they did have though, which struck me as extraordinarily odd, was Trader Joe's brand prunes. WTF? How did Trader Joe's prunes (lots of cans of them! not just one odd one that could have been placed there as a joke) end up in the Danish suburbs? Strange.

On my way again, the next hour was unremarkable, spent tacking up fliers and, at the places that didn't have cork bulletin boards, being ghetto (and, ahem, resourceful!) and peeling bitsy bits of tape off other people's announcements to hang my own (note to self: next time bring tape. I only brought push pins this time around. But, in my defense, some people used what looked like half a roll of packing tape to hang up a piece of paper. Overkill!).

In a mall where I was dropping off some posters, I got distracted and bought 3 scented oils from The Body Shop (Satsuma, Exotic, and Sailboat, if you're curious), a box of Celestial Seasonings Peppermint Tea, and a couple of basic shirts and a 'spring scarf'' from H&M. Noticing that it was already 6pm and that there was no way I'd be "working" this late if I was still actually in the office, I saddled up on my bike again and headed for the gym.

Now, I like to think that I have become an excellent cyclist, since I bike nearly every day. I can do all sorts of tricks, including squeezing through tight spots (like between two trucks), doing a 'one-footed-oh-so-graceful' moving dismount, and I can bike with no hands for short, straight periods of time. Well, something happened today which made me doubt my skills. Taking off from a light, I somehow scratched my knee on the hook of my bike basket. Not only were my tights ripped and run, but I now had to ride the rest of the way to the gym while my knee was bleeding. Cool. Way to go, slick.

The gym was fine. Nothing really out of the ordinary, save for the normal people that annoy me there (which I elaborated on in a previous post). There was, though, one guy that made me chuckle. The sport of handball is really big in Denmark. It's probably second to soccer. This one guy walks past me while I am on the treadmill, wearing a black zip up workout jacket. Because I'm running and listening to music and have nothing really better to to except look around, I stare at the front of his jacket and see its for some handball team. Nothing special there. It was only when it got past my treadmill and I could read the back of his jacket that I laughed. On his jacket, where the player's name is usually printed, was what is presumably his handball nickname - The Hand of God. Excellent. I love it.

Okay, well gee. Long post. My water is totally boiling. Off to play Emeril Lagasse or whomever. Being away from America has made me really out of touch with current tv food personalities.

Hasta la vista.

The Burberry Game, Automatic Win!!

I have previously alluded to the fact that Burberry is taking over the world in my Adventures at the Airport post and, before that, in my Burberry & Denmark post.

I think I have also mentioned The Burberry Points game, though never fully explained it. The rules of the game are, simply and essentially, as follows:

1. If you see someone wearing Burberry novacheck, you can call points on the article of clothing. If someone else in your group has already spotted the Burberry and called the points, it cannot be called again. That person has been played.

2. Generally, you get 2 points for regular Burberry things, like scarves. For couples who are both wearing something Burberry, you get 5 points. You also get 5 points for 'rare' clothing with novacheck (skirts, ponchos, etc.), and pet clothing. Accessories, such as umbrellas and purses are generally worth 3 points.

3. Spotting someone wearing A Burberry Burkha (yes, you read that correctly) constitutes an automatic win.

4. Assuming no one spots a Burberry Burkha, the first person to reach to a pre-determined number (such as 50), wins.

Hillary Clinton Frats Hard

Was United States Democratic Party presidential hopeful Hillary Clinton ever in a sorority? It wasn't mentioned as far as I could tell from a quick Ctrl+f of her Wikipedia entry, but she's looking strikingly sorostitute at a campaign event on Sunday, March 2. I'm loving the sunkissed highlights, bright colors, and chunky necklace, though pearls are always the best choice, Hil. She would be fratting almighty if her outfit were rounded out with some reds from Murray's. Her and Bill have real estate in Nantucket, right? Regardless, her most fratccessory by far is definitely that iconic red solo cup. She's totally drinking Fratty Light and telling all those reporters that keg stands are nothing to be frowned upon. Our nation's youth needs more freedom. Lower drinking age, legal marijuana... There are worse things, people! Frat on, Hil.

So SaRadar

In effort to combat my emoness, I've decided to post some things that are currently on my radar and not twinged with the emo glow. Sure, doing actual work (I'm at work) might distract me from my emo state, but likely not, so I'm doing this instead. Plus, I'm salaried.

1. Copenhagen Cycle Chic on what it means to be a cyclist in Copenhagen. In Copenhagen, everyone cycles. It's not just a sport or a hobby for "enthusiasts" or a hippie method of commuting. We don't wear spandex or special cycling shoes. Hell, most of us don't even wear helmets!

2. Kate Spade Tarrytown Maria Clutch. $215. Comes in pink (shown), black, yellow, and orange. Boarskin leather, 14k light gold plated hardware, and SEERSUCKER lining!! Cute. I want.

3. Artomat Art Vending Machines. Artists from around the world contribute original works of are for these art machines made from retro-looking, converted cigarette machines (check them all out on the website). There are 82 locations around the United States, the one closest to me being at the Whole Foods in Tenley Town. The vend price is $5 and artists get $2.50. Pretty cool idea.

All Emo and Whatnot

Monday afternoon and I'm feeling pretty emo for a number of reasons I don't really want to go into here, mostly because I'm not quite sure who reads my blog. I'm apparently looking pretty emo too... about three minutes ago Lincoln poked his head into my office and told me I looked "deflated." Swell. To be brief, I dwell too much on things. I especially dwell on things from the past but I've also known my mind to wander to the present and future. People, places, experiences... dwell, dwell, dwell. Why can't I just get over things and move on with my life? Other people seem to be able to get over things and forget about them. Set it and forget it, Showtime Rotisserie style! (lame late-night infomercial reference) I, however, tend to analyze and reanalyze things to a point of overanalysis, become frustrated and force myself to put whatever it is on the back burner of my mind for a bit, only to eventually have something trigger it back into my consciousness, restarting the cycle. I hate it. I also don't know how to fix this problem or stop the cycle. Maybe I'll be emo forever. Man, that would suck. But yeah, it's a down slide kinda day and the fact that it's currently sleeting outside isn't helping. :(