13 September 2011

Paleo & Vices

“Grok want Coca-Cola.” - (Wishful) Rough translation first words of Homo Sapiens sapiens.




I’ve been (slowly) converting to the Paleo diet/lifestyle/whatever the heck you want to call it for about six weeks now. For the most part it’s been spectacular - I’ve been feeling far healthier, far more energetic, and I’ve trimmed down rather significantly because of it 1.


For those that aren’t aware of what Paleo is, I’ve linked to a site that has a fairly comprehensive list of links to get one acquainted and started with understanding what “Paleo” actually means. In my attempt to butcher its description, Paleo is at it’s heart a set of broad and far-ranging lifestyle choices and changes that one implements in order to make your lifestyle more similar to the environment our paleolithic ancestors toiled and evolved in. The most prominent of these changes is food, which is where I’ve started, but the movement encompasses exercise – with an emphasis on dynamic weightlifting and sprints over long-distance runs – as well as hygiene – lukewarm showers, no sunscreen, and all-natural cleansers – and even finds its way into clothing for the die-hards2.


On the food front specifically, Paleo is often described as the “Hunter-Gatherer Diet”. What that means to those of us who have never lived a nomadic lifestyle is that the nutrition plan puts an emphasis on obtaining Calories3 from proteins and fats as opposed to carbohydrates as most nutrition plans, including the USDA recommend. Sugar, whether refined or in high-dose, high-glycemic index foods such as nectarines, is a definite no-no, as it is in most “Low-Carb”4 diets. The difference between Paleo and other “low-carb” diets such as Atkins is that it doesn’t de-emphasize the role of plant matter in the paleolithic diet – after all they did ocassionally gather while “Hunter-Gather”ing – and instead completely cuts out whole wheat and gluten-containing products of any kind, often a source of cheating on carbohydrate intake of other popular diets. The issue with gluten is that many humans show a remarkable sensitivity to it, but, because it is so pervasive in our diets, we attribute this chronic irritation to other factors.


Having been gluten-free for nearly six weeks now, and having, to my dismay5, having relapsed on occasion, I can say that the absence of gluten, and in it’s abrupt return, the effect is drastic. Never has such a simple change had such a quick and measurable outcome; the difference being gluten-free is leaps and bounds. What may be even more remarkable is that as I’ve avoided the typical sugar-overloads that modern life presents daily, I’ve quickly been desensitized, and what once was an appealing treat – a doughnut, perhaps – now is borderline repulsive with it’s obvious over sweetness, even without tasting it.


So what’s the issue in turning full Paleo, nutritionally at least? There was one thing that the nomadic man of yore did not account for when refining his palate for future geneartions – that he would one day invent Coca-Cola. Were it not for this vice, chances are high I’d be toting a wooden club and living in a cave.


After all, progress is progress; perhaps I should more appropriately title my particular subset “Polar Bear Paleo.”


Refreshing.



  1. That isn’t to say that I started eating Paleo to lose weight; in fact, that’s decidedly not a goal of this choice. I attribute it instead to a by-product of getting rid of most of the junk I used to eat. ↩

  2. You can sure as hell bet they aren’t opposed to leather goods. ↩

  3. Yes it should be capitalised; a Calorie is one thousand calories. ↩

  4. I say “Low Carb” because Paleo isn’t antithetical to a moderately high carbohydrate diet consisting of starchy plants such as yams; the issue is in eating food our digestive systems have evolved to process, unlike gluten-containing grains and legumes. ↩

  5. Such is college life, unfortunately, that one rarely declines free food, poison or not. ↩

11 September 2011

Failure, OR How I Stopped and Learned to Love the Bomb


“Do I look all rancid and clotted? You look at me, Jack. Eh? Look, eh? And I drink a lot of water, you know. I’m what you might call a water man, Jack - that’s what I am. And I can swear to you, my boy, swear to you, that there’s nothing wrong with my bodily fluids. Not a thing, Jackie.” -Dr. Strangelove




Sometimes the only possible thing one can do is hop on to that atomic bomb and ride it off into the sunset.1 All dramatics aside, the truth is that acceptance is the hardest thing one can do, because it means coming to terms with the way things are, rather than the way they could, should, or even would be, had it not been for some leap of faith, some alternate choice, some thing that didn’t go the way it did.


Acceptance is hard. Acceptance because of failure is even harder, because often it implies failure, it implies that you struggled to bring about some result, and now you’re stuck with whatever shitty outcome that you’ve worked so hard to change, to avoid. Acceptance, is ultimately, riding that atom bomb into the sunset, cowboy hat on, determined to give them “Rooskies “ what-for.


So I’ve accepted that I won’t be entering a prototype into the James Dyson contest this year. In doing so I don’t hang my head in defeat, or wave a little white flag, or give a little encouragement speech of how I did my best to succeed. Because the truth is that I set myself up for failure. The timeline I gave myself was untenable and simply not structured to the way I, regrettably, begrudgingly, operate: in bouts of activity interspersed with lulls in action, rather than a structured, orderly fashion. And I really didn’t play the cards I was dealt; my design was, in my opinion, an interesting one, but the implementation of it was difficult to achieve, for lack of tools and machine-shop access.


Most importantly though, my heart wasn’t in it. I was intrigued, and certainly excited to produce something unique, something original, but my heart was wandering elsewhere. Indeed that’s what did this whole project in: my curiosity slowly waned, and instead of feeling a distilled sense of excitement to be building something, my mind wandered to other things.


So no Dyson Award acceptance speech this year - a shame really, because I have been feverishly working on my public speaking. But just because the impetus for this blog has disappeared doesn’t mean nothing remains. Truthfully, I think this is the beginning, because there is no longer a confinement as to what I feel I should focus on. Instead, I have the opportunity to discuss my real interests and pursue what my heart happens to be in.


I hope you’ll stay tuned. I can tell you I’m working on some interesting things, and, perhaps more importantly, I’m joined by others who can impose some sort of structure onto my flighty thoughts. More on that as it becomes available. In the meantime though, and over the next few days and weeks, I’d like to talk about design as it applies to software, publishing, and the electronic era. I hope you enjoy.



  1. You have seen this movie, haven’t you? ↩