Just finished Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt.

I’d like to start out by stating that this book is not quite what I was expecting. I was rather expecting something on how economies of scale create bizarre convergent behavior that results in the tragedy of the commons…. er, for example.

Instead, it’s more of a collection of short essays illustrating a few key theories. People are mostly honest, except when they have an incentive to cheat. Hoarding information can be a good strategy, but don’t rely on it. Organized crime is structured like a tournament. Given your first name and age, an educated guess can be made about your socioeconomic status. And, the drop in the nationwide crime rate in the 1990’s was due to Roe v. Wade in the 1970’s.

However, the theme of the book is mostly an admonishment not to confuse correlation with cause; conventional wisdom is often guilty of doing so and is not to be trusted.

While the book was well written and easy to read (I finished it in an afternoon, after procrastinating for a long while) and also interesting enough, it wasn’t quite as packed with exciting new ideas as I was hoping it would be.

What I wanted to know (having attempted assemblage in the past,) was this. What will make my creation art and not just another random collection of debris? The answer, I was told, was the thought and care I would put into the creation of the piece. I accepted the answer, but wasn’t entirely satisfied with it.

I forgot about the question until relatively recently. That was when I saw an image on the Internet, of what must surely have been the World’s Worst Steampunk Hat. (Which I shan’t torture you with. You’re welcome.) “Look at this,” I cried to all those in the room with me. “You can’t just glue a bunch of crap to a hat and call it steampunk. What is that, there, a broken cellphone? No, no, no. It should look as though it was precisely crafted, and it should look as though it does something, and it should clearly not be electronic.”

And it was at that point that I remembered the question and answer from long before, and felt as though I finally understood it. Carelessness and lack of thought will definitely hamper, if not prevent, one’s creation from becoming art.

The little boat bounced across the rough sea. Richard spared a moment to turn and thumb his nose at the miserable island he had just left.

I actually had planned to take one per day starting on the first, but I discovered yesterday that my phone had been reset to 320×200 pixel mode for weeks. A shame, because this cosmic looking image of suds at the car wash could have been awesome:

So I took all five images today. I went out to dinner at a seafood restaurant near Seaport Village, a cluster of gift shops and restaurants perched on the edge of the harbor. The place that I thought I was going to was closed. And when I say closed, I mean really closed. I was rather blue at that point.

Fortunately, I found that I was mistaken about the location of the restaurant. The real restaurant was still open, and just a short walk from the abandoned building. On the way, I passed this whimsical sea dragon.

The restaurant was a rather nice place. All but two items on the menu either contained seafood of some sort or other, or had various fish and shellfish upsells. I perused the menu for a few moments and then ordered something that I recognized, albacore. I forgot, until the food arrived, that it is customary to serve tuna rare, very rare. Lots of people like it that way, apparently.

However, having now ordered very rare tuna from a reputable restaurant that specializes in its preparation, I am now quite sure that I don’t like it that way. While it tasted all right, the texture and the temperature were disconcerting to me. I should have just ordered the fish and chips, as unsophisticated as that would have been.

Outside the restaurant was a group of bronze statues commemorating Bob Hope’s many USO tours. This may sound a little random at first, but with the USS Midway, a museum ship, docked nearby, the surrounding area has been themed to honor World War II veterans.

Not far from Bob Hope is a controversial statue recreating the famous image of a sailor kissing a nurse at the end of the war. Not only is the statue gigantic, it’s actually made of construction foam, which will eventually disintegrate in the weather. But raise the subject of removing it before it deteriorates and the citizenry raises its hackles. Never mind that the statue was protested by some as “kitschy” when it was installed.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get a good image of that statue this afternoon. But here’s someone else’s image, if you’re curious.

I then returned to Seaport Village, there to have a bit of coffee and to stroll around a bit before departing again to begin the evening’s entertainment.

…The new Castle Ravenloft board game. It was actually quite exciting, despite the fact that the rules were just a bit vague in places. I’m looking forward to playing it again.

1. What is the best dish you can cook?

When you say “you,” do you mean me, you, or anyone? I’ll assume you mean me. So I asked someone who has tasted most of the dishes that I can cook, and the answer was my three bean casserole.

2. Do I have to beat eggs or can I whip them gently? Sounds so violent to me.

No, you can stir your eggs gently if all you mean to do is scramble them for breakfast. But, any application fancier than that will require that you create tiny bubbles of air or oil in the eggs, and that takes beating and whipping.

3. I am reading a recipe right now for Hearty Beef-n-Cheese Pie from a recipe book I dug out of the cabinet. The instructions read…”Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In large frying pan, brown ground beef, onion and green pepper.” I am already lost. Why must I turn on the oven and put the frying pan in it? And how does one turn beef AND peppers brown at the same time?! What color should the onion be?

Put the frying pan into the oven? I think the asker is taking this just a bit too literally. So literally, in fact, that it leads me to wonder if this is a case of playing dumb. This is a gambit that I’ve seen (and, I admit, used) before, in which someone being asked to perform a task chooses to misinterpret the directions in order to 1) frustrate the asker into doing the task himself and/or 2) avoid being asked to perform such a task ever again. For a great example of this, see the tale of Missy the Cat.

4. Did you ever cook something for your family that no one enjoyed and you had to throw out?

I have made plenty of dishes that I’ve hated and others enjoyed and vice versa. For example, I once made a cheddar, creamed corn, and SPAM casserole that I thought tasted like barf, but was found acceptable by another diner. (Charitably, perhaps.) But the only thing I’ve made (that I can recall) that all tasters agreed was truly inedible was last Thanksgiving’s fudge.

5. Why do all recipes say “mix sugar, flour and salt?” Don’t they cancel out the other?

There’s a lot of chemistry involved in baking. Sugar and salt can do lots of useful things when dissolved in water, things that go far beyond adding flavor. (Things to do with ions, yeasts, and hygroscopy, to name a few.) Mixing the dry ingredients together separately from the wet ingredients prevents these effects from being triggered prematurely.

6. Why must you add eggs “one at a time” to a mixing bowl? Does anybody really know the answer to this question?

Aside from the fact that chucking all of the eggs in and then immediately setting the mixer to high is a recipe for a messy disaster, one reason is to ensure that the protein is evenly distributed throughout the batter, dough, sauce, or whatever it is.

7. Please post the recipe to something you think even I can cook. I am begging you! It is no fun being a afraid of my own crockpot.

I know of a delicious dish which takes very little skill to prepare. It’s from the show Good Eats (which I would recommend to anyone with kitchen anxiety). The original recipe called for a whole two-pound red snapper, which was described as “enough for two,” but I substituted an equivalent serving of salmon fillets instead. You can also use trout, tilapia, etc. I’ll summarize the recipe below, but here is a transcript of the episode that you can consult for more details.

You will need: parchment paper, fresh parsley, oregano, fish, one sliced onion, one sliced lemon, one cup of couscous, one cup pickled and quartered artichoke hearts, one cup grape tomatoes (halved), a half cup of white wine, a tablespoon of butter, and salt and pepper.

Set your oven to 425°F. Rinse the couscous under cold water, drain it, and sprinkle it with salt. Set it aside for ten minutes. Meanwhile, measure out a piece of parchment paper large enough to envelop all the ingredients. Set it on a baking sheet in such a way that it can be folded closed to form a pouch. Now you will form a pile of ingredients on top of the paper.

Lay down a bed of herbs and lay the fish on top. Sprinkle it with salt and pepper. Set a layer of lemon and onion slices on top. (If you are daring enough to use a whole fish, you can stuff it with herbs and slices as well.) Now, surround the fish with couscous. On top of this, place the quartered artichoke hearts and tomatoes. Pour the wine over all and dot with butter.

Now, fold the parchment paper closed. You’ll want to close it securely to prevent too much steam from escaping, but not so securely that it explodes from the pressure. Folding over the edges and stapling every few inches works pretty well.

Bake for thirty minutes, tear open the paper, and enjoy.

And yet, I have unearthed a few candidates for RIP, though I may dismiss one or two over the course of this post. And here they are:

• Imajica by Clive Barker. We all know Clive Barker from his horror work, such as Hellraiser and Nightbreed. However, this two-volume series has been described as more of an epic fantasy than horror, so for that reason (and for the fact that it’s two volumes long) I might have to dismiss it from consideration.
• Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach. This is a nonfiction book that investigates the fates of corpses that have been donated (knowingly and unknowingly) to science. It would definitely be morbid, and possibly horrifying, and only a ghost away from Frankenstein… but it is non-fiction, so including it in this challenge might be a stretch.
• The Harvest by Perry Brass. This book appears to be a thriller about a clone running from an all-powerful corporation, rather like the movie The Island. LibraryThing calculates (with a low certainty) that I’ll enjoy it. If not, at least it’s the shortest thing on the list.
• Prayers to Broken Stones by Dan Simmons. This is an anthology of thirteen stories that, according to the book jacket, include a woman returning from the dead, a ghostly Civil War battlefield, and a post-apocalyptic Christmas celebration. This sounds almost ideal.
• Don’t Open This Book, edited by Marvin Kaye. Here is another anthology, this one of 39 short stories grouped into sections such as “Sinister Science and Frankensteinian Formulae,” “Satan’s Fine Print and Memoranda from Hell,” and “Read at Your Own Risk.”

I suspect I’ll start with one of the final two from the list, even though Stiff is tempting…

But I’ve gone ahead and accepted another unofficial NaBloPoMo challenge. Why? I suppose I’m just plain nuts. The theme of the month, should I wish to embrace it, is art, meaning that art can be discussed, shared, or both. And if I run out of ideas, I have a “backup” plan. (And yes, I do expect you to imagine my making “finger quotes” there. And there.)

I’ve also decided to participate in the Readers Imbibing Peril (RIP) reading challenge, which runs from September 1 to October 31. To participate, simply read and review at least one “scary” novel, short story, or film. I would have finished at least one book during this time anyway, so why not join the fun and make it a “scary” book?

It’s suggested (but not mandatory, by any means) that participants list a few “scary” books they may be thinking of reading. I’ll have to check my shelves. There are a great many there that I’ve collected and are yet to be read…

… Or not. Three lanes of highway traffic were merged into one due to construction. It was a long, long wait to get past. But then, the open road!

Clearly, the lesson for today is to always check for traffic reports along your intended route, especially for known conditions such as construction work. (Now we know! And knowing is half the battle! Ba-na-na na na!)

Anyway…

Though I’d driven Highway 15 to Las Vegas before, that was in the dark. This time, I got to see what I had missed. And that was, apparently, sand and yucca trees, with the occasional giant thermometer to break the monotony.

Eventually, we reached Barstow, where we stopped for burgers. After that point, though, the desert soon became a memory as civilization surrounded us once again: gas stations, supermarkets, Carl’s Juniors, Starbuckses, and not another yucca in sight. As the scenery grew more and more familiar, I kept one hopeful fact in mind— I still had one more day off.

I find that it’s always nice to have one extra day to rest when returning home, just to ease the shock of transition back to the daily grind. Is there a name for such a day? If not, there should be. How about “Epilogue Day?”

No, no, and no.

Instead, my usual accomplice and I decided to visit the other resorts on the strip. We’d explored the Venetian somewhat last night, wandering into a shopping mall that was designed to simulate a perpetual early morning in Venice, complete with singing gondoliers.

Today, we visited Treasure Island (but missed seeing the pirate show), we visited the Mirage (and their lovely tropical atrium), and the Mardi Gras themed Harrah’s before boarding a monorail bound for the Sahara, at the end of the Strip. From there, we walked a rather seedy few blocks to reach the Stratosphere. This resort features an 844 foot observation tower, which we ascended. At the top is an observation gallery, and also some amusement park rides.

I was under the impression that there was a roller coaster up there. This was the closest thing they had, and pretty much embodies all the things I don’t like about roller coasters. (Which is not to say that I categorically dislike roller coasters, but rather, certain schools of thought in roller coaster design.)

When we returned to the ground, we cashed in the Starbucks coupons that came with the tower admission. This may have been a mistake, as it could have been the cause of a grumpiness attack that struck later in the day. At present, however, I was full of sugar and caffeine and ready to see more, more more! So we boarded the monorail once again, bound for the other end of the Strip.

Here we saw the MGM Grand, which had a sort of Art Deco, sort of Gotham City, sort of Golden Age of Film theme that I just adored. Next, we visited New York New York, which had a different sort of Gotham vibe (of course,) and finally the Luxor, where we enjoyed drinks and snacks at a Mexican restaurant. By now quite tired, we set a course for the Venetian, but got lost trying to shortcut through the Excalibur.

I think we learned our lesson, however: that it’s important to know when to call it a day. Returning to your hotel room in a pleasantly “funned out” state is fine. Returning in an exhausted, unhappy state shows that you’ve overdone it.

Fortunately, the day didn’t end on a sour note. After a well needed rest, we went back downstairs to catch a performance by the Blue Man Group. It was really quite interesting, with very creative sets and lighting. I think one of my favorite scenes involved a lot of electroluminescent wire meant to represent a landscape of neon lights, some of which detached from the scenery and began to dance around.

And so I think that in visiting Las Vegas in the future, I may well make my choice of hotel based on which show I want to see, and pretty much stay there all day.

We bought tickets for the Dam Tour, which would visit the power plant as well as some lesser known tunnels running through the dam. The tour began in the dam’s new visitor center, which was built in the 1990’s. A high capacity elevator lowered the tour group seven hundred feet to the base of the dam. We were led through a tunnel through rough volcanic rock into a large room, which vibrated with the roar of rushing water. One of the water intake tubes to the hydro plant was directly beneath our feet.

The next stop on the tour was the generator room. From there, the Dam Tour group followed the original tour tunnel. It was smartly tiled and floored with terrazzo, making me feel almost as though we were about to visit a secret See’s Candy factory. Up a much older and smaller elevator we went, and arrived in a less glamorous version of the same tunnel. We followed the bare concrete to a ventilation grate about halfway up the dam, where we had the opportunity to peer curiously outside.

We were able to view a few more interesting subterranean features, then returned to the surface. I was pleased to have had the opportunity to view this monument of engineering. I was also pleased to learn that the new visitor’s center featured a snack bar. Breakfast was receding rapidly into the past by this point. After our snack, my usual accomplice and I hit the road again, and eventually arrived in Las Vegas.

We checked into the Venetian. After our full day of traveling, we were ready to sit back and take it easy.