The Antisocial Socialist

homewardangel asked about my relationship with caffeine.

Sometimes, when a woman and a chemical compound love each other very, very much…

Okay, let’s be clear–I’ve been addicted to coffee since I was 13 or so, I have no desire to quit, and I tend not to entirely trust people who don’t drink coffee until they’ve proven conclusively that they’re not lizard aliens. Coffee’s great. I’m a bear until I’ve had my first cup. I searched long and hard for a coffee mug that was of an acceptable size so that I could fill it with a sufficient amount of coffee and not have to keep refilling it, and I’ve finally found the perfect mug. It’s a House Baratheon mead mug. That’s how much coffee I drink before I leave the house every morning.

I am super-picky about coffee as a result of spending a lot of time in Seattle. Fortunately, there’s a really good coffee shop around the block from me that sells fair trade, organic, locally roasted beans. I get their dark roast. I like my coffee strong but not acidic; here on the eastern part of the continent, most roasters seem to misunderstand what dark roast is supposed to take it and burn the shit out of it, Starbucks being the worst but not the only offender.

Weirdly, when I’m desperate and need to go to a chain coffee place, I go for Tim Horton’s over the other ones. Mostly because light roast has more caffeine, and if I’m going to a chain coffee place, it’s because I’m going to pass out if I don’t get coffee now.

I take coffee with milk and sugar.

If I’m working, I tend to not drink coffee after about noon or so, because it does mess with my sleep. Of course, this year I’ve had worse fatigue problems and a stupider schedule, and I discovered the one kind of energy drink that is not gross (Monster’s mocha flavour) and this was a Problem for awhile. At the moment, I’m only using them in dire emergencies because I’m worried about becoming addicted and dying of a heart attack before I’m 40.

I’m not much of a tea drinker, and when I do drink tea, it’s usually herbal. Black tea is growing on me, though. I still can’t convince my body that it has caffeine in it.

I should also add that I constantly struggle with coffeemakers, and haven’t had a coffeemaker I liked in years. I can’t manage things like a French press—it always comes out wrong—and that cold coffee brewing thing just sounds like too much work and why would I want my coffee to be cold? So it’s really got to be drip, and for some reason they don’t make drips like they used to. My current one makes reasonable coffee for one, but try making it for two and it explodes about 75% of the time. But I don’t want to get a new one, because I literally go through three coffeemakers every time I replace an old one.

Oh coffeemaker.

This was not the morning I needed you to fail.

Well, I don't ever need you to fail. But I was already having a deeply shitty morning.

Does anyone know what can make a coffeemaker fail in such a way that it produces a very small volume of coffee, a terrible stench, and a coffee-like substance that, when ingested, makes you vomit? (I was desperate, okay?)

Stephen Harper wants you to think that he likes Tim Horton's, but he totally doesn't.

The article itself is completely incoherent, though in fairness, the idea of Canadian teabaggers makes even less sense than the idea of American teabaggers and thus Delacourt is already beginning from a place of utter absurdity.

Still, I love the image of Harper and Ignatieff secretly drinking hot chocolate and tea, respectively, in order to seem like Men of the People. Everyone knows that if you hate Tim Horton's, you hate Canada. And also probably sunshine and puppies. Hell, everyone knows what their beverage of choice really is.*

I really ought to become a whacked-out pundit so that I can start a pseudo-populist movement where we send our "Roll Up the Rim to Win" rims to the PMO until he caves to my increasingly extreme demands.

* The blood of the working class, sometimes topped up with a shot of orphan tears.

Woke up this morning(ish), cleaned up puke on my carpet (not mine, Luna's; I apparently wasn't that drunk last night), and had a breakfast of facon with maple syrup, tomatoes, and coffee (at the kitchen table not in front of the computer).

I don't remember much of last night but it seems I had a good time! And you were there, and you, and you...

Now I'm off to do something fun with my hair and maybe drop by the Tamil protest again if they're still around.

Dear coffeemaker,

We sure had some good times together, didn't we? Waking up in the morning, me whispering sweet nothings into your filter, you gracing me with warm, delicious caffeinated beverages. You weren't fancy or expensive or anything, but you always made me great coffee, and I really liked you.

I'm sorry that I didn't even notice that you were sick. You made me a great cup of coffee yesterday, and that must have been your swan song, because this morning, well, you were dead. I ground up my hippie fair trade organic shade-grown coffee from Bolivia, poured in the water, flipped your switch, and—nothing.

I guess I'll find another coffeemaker eventually, but we were together for years and I'm really going to miss you. In the meantime, there's Tim Horton's. But anyway, if you had to die, did you really have to kick the bucket on Labour Day when all the stores are closed?

Woe,

Sabs

---

On an unrelated note: Hollywood's 5 Saddest Attempts at Feminism.

You are standing on Augusta Avenue in Kensington Market. It's a sunny Thursday afternoon, and the Market is bustling. Don't these people have jobs?

There are exits to the north, south, east, and west.

>S

You push your way south along Augusta.

>E

You are now on Baldwin St.

>S

You are now on Kensington. A store advertises multicoloured keffiyehs under a sign that says: "Rock the Casbah."

>OH HELL NO

Sorry about that. Fucking hipsters.

>E

You turn onto St. Andrew. You are standing in front of Moonbean.

>ENTER MOONBEAN

There are approximately 200 varieties of fair trade, shade-grown, organic coffee. Is there any one in particular you'd like?

>ALL OF THEM

I'm sorry, I do not understand that command.

>OKAY, ETHIOPIAN

Yum! You are now caffeinated.

>EXIT MOONBEAN

You turn onto St. Andrew. You are standing in front of Moonbean.

>N

You turn onto Baldwin.

>W

You turn onto Augusta.

>BUY EMPANADAS

The spicy salsa verde ones?

>HELLS YES

Good call.

>N

You are standing on Augusta in front of that yuppie craft store; the vanguard of gentrification in the neighbourhood.

>GO IN

Are you sure?

>Y

Holy fuck, they have a Soviet military kitsch stand!

>MY FETISHES HAVE BEEN CO-OPTED

Tell me about it.

>BUY AVIATOR GOGGLES

You cannot has.

>EXIT

You are standing on Augusta Ave.

>N

You walk north and stop at the corner of Brunswick and Bloor. The patio of Future Bakery is almost full. Seriously, where do these people work that they can get a Thursday afternoon off?

>ENTER FUTURES

Your entrance startles a Marxist study group sitting by the front door.

>JOIN STUDY GROUP

Sorry, you are not a grad student.

>BUY MORE COFFEE

Fortunately, the option of mindless consumption is still open to you.

>SIT ON THE PATIO AND DRINK COFFEE UNTIL CLASS STARTS

Fuck yes!

( Photos from today, mostly naturey )

frostokovich: Do Cretins Take Over Every Time There's a War? The Answer: Yes

In 1918 the US Government instituted a program to round up and put into detention camps women who were believed to be prostitutes working on or near US military bases. Government agents set traps for and rounded up real prostitutes. There are reports of Feds hiding in bushes in parks, waiting to spring out and jump any woman who walked by on the arm of a soldier. These WWI Homely Security boys also arrested what were called "Charity girls." Charity girls were young women who picked up soldiers and sailors for a fun night out--you know, just a smoky, boozy night of carousing, and if there was sex in the bargain, what the hell, sometimes that's what we want. In some cases, like those walks in the park, the women were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were arrested anyway.

I did not know about this.

If you need a palate-cleanser afterwards, read various web comic artists on liking their women like they like their coffee. For the record, Drew has the one I always use.

Coffee May Reduce Risk of Cirrhosis
by CARLA K. JOHNSON, Associated Press Writer

Monday, June 12, 2006
(06-12) 18:15 PDT CHICAGO, (AP) --

Coffee may counteract alcohol's poisonous effects on the liver and help prevent cirrhosis, researchers say. In a study of more than 125,000 people, one cup of coffee per day cut the risk of alcoholic cirrhosis by 20 percent. Four cups per day reduced the risk by 80 percent. The coffee effect held true for women and men of various ethnic backgrounds.

( Very important skience under cut! )

It looks like I'm going to the Cooking Fire Theatre Festival tonight, which should be good. And I got a page of my novel written last night. That doesn't sound like much, but given my perpetual writer's block, it's quite an accomplishment. I think I'm inspired by how many bad Canadian novels I picked up at BookExpo. At this rate, I'll be done my novel in about a hundred years.

mistersmearcase hath tagged me with the music meme.

Here are the somewhat totalitarian instructions:
List ten songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your Livejournal along with your ten songs. Then tag some other people to see what they're listening to:

1. "Ghost of Tom Joad," Bruce Springsteen
2. "The Triumph of Our Tired Eyes," A Silver Mt. Zion
3. "I Ain't Got No Home," Woody Guthrie
4. "Wear Clean Draws," The Coup
5. "Mack the Knife," (various versions)
6. "Which Side Are You On?" Billy Bragg
7. "White Boots Marching in a Yellow Land," Phil Ochs
8. "Green Fields of France," Eric Bogle
9. "The Mercy Seat," Johnny Cash
10. "Black Friday Rule," Flogging Molly

There's a bit of a theme here.

(I tag you. Yes, you.)

Additional note to self: Just because someone shows you a cafe that makes all of its coffee with espresso machines does not mean that you need to sample that coffee after 5 o' clock. You will not be able to sleep. I don't care how mindblowingly yummy it is.