India is Really Big

I've been reading a lot about India in preparation for an upcoming trip. Even though I know, like everyone else, that the nation's total population is about 1.3 billion, I'm still astounded every time I read about how many people live in a given state. Inspired by this map, which replaces the US states with the flags of countries of equal population, I created the map above. As in the United States map, each state or territory is represented by the flag of the country whose population is roughly equivalent to that of the state. I took a few liberties, such as omitting the smaller union territories and leaving out the boundaries that are disputed by India and its neighbors.

Here are a few unexpected things that showed up in the map:

- The state of Gujarat is closest in population to South Africa. Gandhi, who was born in Gujarat, spent over two decades in South Africa before returning to India.

- Because Madhya Pradesh and Chhattisgarh are represented by the UK and Australian flags, respectively, they appear at first glance to be connected. In fact, Chhattisgarh split off from Madhya Pradesh in 2000 to become its own state, so the connection is appropriate.

- The flags of Swaziland, Botswana, and Namibia, real-life neighbors in southern Africa, here represent the adjacent northeastern states of Arunachal Pradesh, Nagaland, and Manipur (though it can be hard to tell because the northeast's already-crazy jumble is made more confusing by multicolored flags).

- The state of Haryana, here represented by the flag of Syria, is shaped a lot like Iraq, whose flag looks a lot like that of Syria.

Gmoticons

I don't use GChat as much as I used to, because the IT department at my current job monitors employee internet usage. However, I've recently discovered (or rediscovered, in the case of the monkey) the following "hidden" commands within the program. Though they are secret only in the sense that "animal style" at In-N-Out Burger is secret, these functions surely deserve greater acclaim and usage:

:(|)

V.v.V

[:|]

Street Names

Amazing streets in whose vicinity I have resided:

Melville Street. Probably named around the turn of the century, before the resurgence of Melville's literary reputation. In West Philadelphia Melville St. is a tiny north-south street tucked between wider, numbered streets.

Sigel Street. Apparently Beanie Sigel's name is derived from the South Philadelphia street (though he lived on the west side of Broad Street).

Keanu Street. I would like to believe that the actor, who is part Hawaiian, was named after the street. I find parking on this street to be oddly satisfying.

Bastille Day

Five French people I like:

* Claire Denis

* Fernand Braudel

* Pierre Mendès-France

* Franck Ribéry

* Jacques Vergès

The Book of Ebenezer Le Page

There are a lot of reasons to like this book. Michael Hofmann, reviewing it in the LRB, liked it so much he had to use two foreign terms to label it. "The Book of Ebenezer Le Page is vast fun and a vast life," he writes, "a Kulturgeschichte and a roman à thèse."

Edwards's book convinced me of something I'd never truly believed in the past: that it is possible to lead a full, complex life without leaving home. Ebenezer Le Page leaves Guernsey only once in his long life, for a day trip to neighboring Jersey; and he only reads one book, Robinson Crusoe. Yet his life, as Hofmann writes, is vast.

Of course, I'd encountered this idea before, but I didn't buy it--not from historians, and certainly not from anthropologists. Spending one's life in a single place, I thought, was a curse (think of Bodie in The Wire, who doesn't realize that the radio stations are different outside of Baltimore).

In part, this was why I had trouble getting used to Philadelphia, a sedentary city where even rich people stay in the same neighborhood for generations, and where newcomers are regarded with distrust, like the Englishmen in Le Page's Guernsey. The book of my own life will still be a Bildungsroman, not a Kulturgeschichte, but at least I understand Philly a little better than I used to.

Bookshelf from Staples

Lately, there has been a lot of talk about bookshelves on publishing and book criticism blogs. People talk about how to deal with overflowing bookshelves, how to make amazing bookshelves that double as staircases, and the etiquette of displaying unread books. What I don't see a lot of is praise for particular shelves.

I have a wonderful shelf that I bought at the Staples in University Heights, Providence, in August 2002. It cost me $20, and I have used it ever since, over six years and in six or seven different residences. What distinguishes this extraordinary shelf from all the other cheap bookshelves? Two things, really:

1. Shelves made of real (albeit cheap) wood instead of particle board with a "wood effect" exterior. This means that the shelves don't sag from the weight of the books.

2. A collapsible structure (the shelves swing up and the sides swing in to cover them). When moving apartments, this factor separates a $20 bookshelf that is taken along from a $20 bookshelf that is trashed or given away. I don't understand why Ikea and the suppliers for Target and Wal-mart continue to design non-collapsible shelves that require assembly AND cost the same amount as my shelf from Staples.

Cafeterias

Yesterday I ate at the cafeteria in an Ikea store. Like most things at Ikea, the concept was better than the reality, but it was still a memorable experience. Best of all, it made me think about my love of cafeterias as a means of distributing food. In elementary school, I eagerly awaited the cafeteria's weekly pizza lunch. One of my family's favorite dinner destinations was Souplantation, which is cafeteria-like in its setup. In college, I stayed on the school meal plan longer than most of my peers, and actually looked forward to eating at the dining hall. Now, I sometimes fantasize about working for a large corporation (or at least, a government agency) with its own employee cafeteria. Here are some reasons why I enjoy cafeterias:

* I love to eat, and I like to exercise total control over the content of my meals, but I don't enjoy cooking.

* Busing one's own tray and plates is a reminder that someone has to clean up, even if it's not the person eating.

* I'm not a big stickler for knowing where my food came from, or whether it was produced locally. In fact, I think the current tendency to view food consumption as an urgent political matter is a bit misguided.

* Cafeterias are associated with large institutions--schools, corporations, museums, hospitals--and I am fond of large institutions, probably because people love to complain about how faceless and impersonal they are, which I think is stupid.

* The constraints established by cafeterias provide a ready-made framework for expressions of creativity in consumption.

San Diego Padres

If I were a less disciplined blogger, I would write something mean about the Philadelphia Phillies. Instead, I'd like to praise the San Diego Padres, my hometown club.

I haven't really cared about the Padres since 1998, the year they made it to the World Series (only to be swept by the Yankees, of course). In fact, I didn't really follow them throughout the 1990s, either -- the high point of my fandom was in kindergarten, when Bip Roberts and Steve Garvey came to my school to present me with the first of my many Citizen of the Month awards.

This weekend, however, the Padres have been in town to play the Phillies. They've won twice, in dramatic and controversial fashion, and I can only hope that they prevail again tomorrow. Yesterday, there was nearly a brawl after Carlos Ruiz slid in high on Marcus Giles, and today Milton Bradley -- who's hit three home runs so far this weekend -- called hitter-friendly Citizens Bank Park "a joke." Best of all, though, the Padres' home runs off of the vile Brett Myers occasioned the following:

After the game, Myers got into a shouting match with a reporter and had to be restrained by teammate Pat Burrell.

When Myers was asked about the two home runs, he said they were really "just pop ups."

A reporter from the Philadelphia Inquirer questioned whether Myers really thought they were pop ups, and Myers got angry.

"You're not even a beat reporter, you're a fill-in, you don't know anything about baseball," said Myers, who then called the reporter "retarded."

The Inquirer reporter asked if Myers could spell retarded, and Myers stood up. Burrell then restrained Myers, and Myers refused to speak any further.

I'll never understand why Phillies fans hate Pat Burrell -- who, though overpaid and indifferent, seems like a decent guy -- but have no problem with Myers.