I just realized why I like this site

Sabermetric Research: The large supply of tall people

But there’s a short supply of humans who are in the right tail of any and every normal distribution. Again, why should height be different? I see three ways height is different, and both of them work against Berri’s argument.

I’ve been reading the above blog ever since I came across it on the Numbers Guy blog at the WSJ.  This morning, I realized why I like it so much.  This guy takes two things I love, justice and files . . . I mean, statistics and complaining, and sticks them together.  He reads something, like a person blaming the competitive imbalance in basketball on the small supply of tall people, and he not only says, “Hey, you’re wrong” (Which I love to do), but then he goes on to give statistical analysis on WHY (Which I would do if I were a little more educated and motivated).

His analysis is pretty accessible, and it’s usually (Almost always, I guess) sports-related.

Anyway, I recommend the blog.  If you’ve ever listened to an argument and thought, “Hey, you’re wrong, but I can’t show you why”, you’ll enjoy reading.

A really long walk

DSC_5755On Saturday, the wife wanted to go to Dumbarton Oaks to see the gardens. It was a nice day, so we hopped on the 42 bus down to Dupont Circle. The park is at 31st and R NW, so we figured we’d just walk down R, only about ten blocks.

Well, it appears we misread the map or something, because R doesn’t go all the way through. We hit Mass and headed north, past all the embassies, around the Naval Observatory, and finally into Georgetown. By this time we were hot, tired, and hungry, so we stopped for lunch at The Bean Counter on Wisconsin. I don’t know if it was just that the restaurant was air conditioned and we were starving, but that sandwich was delicious.  The service was good, too.

Then, we finally made it to the garden.  It’s a nice self-tour.  There’s a map, so the wife was happy.  They have a ton of roses, including the one up and to the right.

When we finally made it home, we determined (using Map My Run) that we’d walked about 5 and a half miles.  I think maybe next time we’ll take the bus a little closer to 31st and R.

Not deleted

It was all Windows’ fault.  Windows FTP seems to think that it shouldn’t notify me if I’m overwriting a .htaccess file.  So I overwrote one, and killed Typo (The blogging engine that I use for From Harvard Street).  It’s fixed now.

Also fixed – all the permalinks to Harvard Street posts now redirect to the corresponding pages at Complaint Hub.  So if you’ve linked to a post, the link still works, it just takes you to Complaint Hub instead.  I’m quite proud of myself.

Combining two sites

It turns out it was kind of silly for me to manage two blogs.  I mean, who needs two blogs?  So I’m combining them.  If you’re a regular reader of this blog and From Harvard Street, you’ll see some posts you may have read there show up here.  They should all be here, in fact.

All the comments from Harvard Street have not been transferred over.  They aren’t gone, though, and I may eventually transfer them.  If I get really motivated, I might even redirect the permalinks to Harvard Street posts so that they go to the corresponding Complaint Hub posts.

Anyway, if you have any questions, just ask.

Raw breakfast

Actually pretty good

As many of you may have, I saw Ani’s Raw Food Kitchen on BoingBoing the other day. Yesterday morning, we tried her recipe for a Spanish Breakfast Scramble.

I’ve never really tried raw vegan cooking. I mean, I’m certainly not going to start eating vegan exclusively, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn anything from the diet.

Now, before I go any further, let me just make it clear that the wife cooked all this, not me. I just found the website. Well, BoingBoing found the website. Anyway.

So, we tried it yesterday, and it was quite good. “It was better than I thought it was going to be,” says the wife. I concur.

The fact that you have to watch the video on her website to learn how to prepare the meal is a pretty annoying way of encouraging you to buy her book, but I suppose I understand. As a result of this, I’ve done some quick Googling for other raw vegan recipes. Much of what I’ve found is buried in self-righteous crap – “Oh, you aren’t a raw vegan? You probably kick puppies too.” But I’ll keep looking.

Yay DMV! Boo Officer Key.

Now, I’m sure Officer Key is just doing his/her job. But that doesn’t mean I appreciate the parking parking ticket I got this morning. $100. Failure to register the car in DC. The policewoman at the station on V St. said my guest parking permit should be all I need. Apparently she’s a liar. On the bright side, however, I now have official DMV-issued temporary tags. I made it from Pentagon City to Columbia Heights (via Metro) to 95 M St SW (via car), got my tags, back to Columbia Heights, put them on, and back to Pentagon City in three hours flat.

That’s two trips to the DMV at 95 M St SW, and two great experiences. Yes, they gave me dirty looks because I haven’t registered the car in time. But I didn’t wait long, and they took care of my problem for another 45 days. By then I’ll have my title, and I’ll be able to get real tags.

I really can’t say enough about how the DMV has exceeded my expectations. True, my expectations were pretty low. And I don’t particularly appreciate the $100 ticket (Not that the DMV gave me that, but they played their role). But I was expecting at least the fourth or fifth circle of Hell when I walked in to the DC DMV, and I got quick and efficient service. The lady at the metal detector even complimented my hemp messenger bag as she searched it.

Well, I guess I can say enough about the DMV. I’m done now.

Dinner with the wife out of town

Steak, fries, beer The wife is in Vegas for work, so I’m left on my own until Thursday. Last night, I cooked a frozen pizza for dinner, but tonight, I thought I’d do something a little nicer. When I was in college and lived near my paternal grandmother, she used to cook me dinner sometimes. It was nearly always the same thing. Steak, steak fries, and peas. She always had Coke to drink, and always had something for dessert. Here I’ve substituted a Red Hook Long Hammer IPA for the Coke, and I was too lazy to cook the peas, but the rest of the dinner is all there.

I made a pretty big greasy mess of the stove, and I overcooked the steak, but it was immensely satisfying nonetheless. The wife, apparently, is going to a sushi buffet with some coworkers tonight, and ordinarily I would be jealous. But not tonight.

I do miss the wife, but she’ll be back soon, and I also appreciate the time alone. The cat and I are hanging out (she was helping me cook. And by “helping me cook” I mean “poking around in the trash and sniffing the bit of leftover gristle in there”), watching some tv, and enjoying our freedom.

You can see the rest of the pictures of dinner here.

No, no, dont kill the infidels

I mentioned a book I’m reading earlier. I said I was “looking forward to reading [the book] and understanding a little more about [Islam] and the culture behind it”. Sounds like a good idea, right? Islam has gotten a pretty bad rap lately because of a small but difficult-to-ignore minority, and I feel like I know nothing about the religion and the culture.

Well, it turns out I picked the wrong book. I mean, Robert Payne’s “The History of Islam” is an interesting read. But the guy makes absolutely no distinction between “This is an event which many historians agree actually happened” and “This is a conversation Muhammad had with the angel Gabriel”. None. Both are presented as fact.

The first time I really got the feeling that Robert Payne was a little wacko was page 32.

Soon there came another revelation: it was right and proper for the faithful to kill the infidels.

What? Kill the infidels? There is absolutely nothing in this book between “There is one God, and Muhammad is spreading his word” and “The faithful should kill the infidels”. I’m just not buying that. No one in their right mind looks at that and thinks, “Yeah, that’s cool.”

Later on, in the chapter on the Caliphs of Damascus, he tells of Sulayman, a guy who loved to eat. Maybe a little too much.

He posessed, like many enormously fat people, a steady driving intelligence.

Okay, that’s it. I’m going to finish this book, but I’m going to read it as what it is – a work of historical fiction. I still need a book on Islam. The real Islam. Real information on the history of the religion and the culture, not these fairy tales about decapitations and visions of angels.