Martin Shkreli: Capitalism as Performing Art

 

Image result for martin shkreli chess
Martin Shkreli – Bloomberg/Getty Images

Before getting slammed with seven years in federal prison, former pharma investor and CEO Martin Shkreli made a name for himself as an attention-whoring price-gouging drug profiteer by buying the rights to antiparasitic drug Daraprim and jacking up its price by 5000%. Basking in the media’s stink eye, Shkreli went on to place a $5,000 bounty on a lock of Hillary Clinton’s hair and buy the only copy of rap group Wu-Tang Clan’s album Once Upon a Time in Shaolin, which he mused about either hiding or destroying.

Despite being prone to the tactless grandiosity and reveling in artificial scarcity like some sort of billionaire supervillain, Shkreli doesn’t come from an out of touch old money elite. Born to Montenegrin immigrant janitors and a family of six, he attended Hunter College, a publicly funded NYC high school for high gifted students. At 18 he got a job at the hedge fund Cramer, Berkowitz and Company, where he predicted a drop in the price of Regeneron Pharmaceuticals so successfully and aggressively that it drew the attention from the Securities and Exchange Commission, though they could prove no wrongdoing. High-risk short-selling at Cramer seems to be how Shkreli made much of his early fortune. Such  would appear time and again throughout Shkreli’s finance career, and so would the SEC.

Shkreli then founded his own hedge fund, Elea Capital Management, in 2006 at age 23. That fund, however, seems to be notable only for collapsing and losing Lehman Brothers $2.3M in barely a year. Luckily for Shkreli, Lehman Brothers itself collapsed in 2008 as a result of its involvement in the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis (which directly caused the Great Recession), so Elea was never forced to pay back this loss.

Not one to let financial insolvency stop him from touching other people’s money, Shkreli then managed a portfolio at RBC Professional Trading Group LLC. RBC fired Shkreli for conducting trades outside of the firm’s supervision, losing quite a bit of money, and then attempting to conceal said transactions.

Apparently lacking either the credibility as a successful manager or the ability to follow company guidelines, Shkreli turned to the only person still always willing to hire him: himself. He started yet another hedge fund, MSMB Capital and subsequently MSMB Healthcare and rare disease pharmaceuticals company Retrophin. Retrophin focuses on acquiring the rights to orphan drugs and repurposing them for other alternative uses. Since orphan drugs are pharmacologically effective but financially unviable for their intended purpose, projects like Retrophin’s can show rapid results without the typically massive costs of drug development. That is, if the clinical trials turn out successful. They did, and Retrophin’s $40M 2013 IPO has since grown to a $1.1B valuation. They now provide treatments for bile acid synthesis disorders, peroxisomal disorders, and cerebrotendinous xanthomatosis.

If Shkreli were a supervillain, this is the coming-of-age event that turns him from an unscrupulous finance hotshot into a cat-stroking, manically laughing Bond antagonist, at least in the eyes of the media. After acquiring rights to a drug called Thiola which prevents kidney stones in people with the genetic disorder cystinuria, Retrophin raised the price by a factor of twenty to $30 per pill, which may be needed multiple times a day. Outrage, cried the public! But where was the free market, saving us from oppressive price-gouging monopolies when we needed it? The patent on Thiola had already expired, so where is the competition? Stifled by regulation.

See, before jacking up the price on Thiola, Retrophin first moved it to a closed distribution system. Before competitors go to market, they have to prove “bioequivalence” to the FDA in order to ensure that the generic drug actually does what it’s supposed to. But if the generic manufacturer can’t get their hands on Thiola, then they can’t run controlled tests. If they can’t run controlled tests, they can’t prove to the FDA it’s safe. And if they can’t prove it’s safe, they can’t sell it. Even if they could sell it, the price would immediately drop on account of the market now being competitive, and the revenue from the generic might not even pay for the costs of the bioequivalence study.

After leaving Retrophin and founding Turing Pharmaceuticals, Shkreli pulled the same trick with the antiparasitic AIDS drug Daraprim. This time, though, he raised the price by a factor of 56. Daraprim is listed as one of the World Health Organization’s essential medicines and Shkreli managed to become the country’s sole supplier. In a move one doctor calls “especially sinister”, Turing may have been attempting to become the sole supplier of sulfadiazine, the prefered drug to be used in conjunction with pyramethamine (Daraprim) for treating toxoplasmosis.

The Daraprim price hike is where Shkreli really made a name for himself, drawing the ire of major news outlets and even congress. Rather than go into damage control mode, Shkreli rode the tsunami of bad press as “the most hated man in America” to new heights. He went on CNBC and defended the price hike and every other move by the company, flatly refusing to lower the price. When EpiPen raised their prices to similar outrage, Shkreli publicly defend them too. Around this time, Shkreli bought the Wu-Tang Clan album and injected himself into the clown fiesta that was the 2016 presidential primaries. Beginning his scrap with Hillary Clinton who tweeted condemning the drug hike, Shkreli claimed he would destroy the album if Clinton won the 2016 election but release it if Donald Trump won. The hair bounty would follow later. In an interesting twist, Shkreli made a $2,700 donation, the maximum individual amount, to Bernie Sanders, the only candidate who seemed to actually understand and prioritize healthcare economics. Sanders had the most aggressively reformist healthcare platform of any candidate, advocating importing prescription drugs from Canada, requiring Medicare to negotiate drug prices, and expanding Medicare and Medicaid. Sanders rejected the Shkreli’s proposed meeting discussing healthcare policy and diverted the donation to a health clinic.

In a feat of supreme narcissism, around this time Shkreli began livestreaming his life. Turns out Shkreli mostly works and plays video games. He started mixing in Youtube lectures on basic topics like chemistry and market analysis and later made a (surprisingly informative) six-hour series on how to analyze a clinical trial from an investment perspective.

Even congress could not resist joining the bandwagon bashing the man everyone loved to hate. When the House Oversight Committee called Shkreli in to a hearing over the Daraprim price hike, Shkreli made headlines by invoking his fifth amendment right to silence and posing for pictures while Maryland Rep. Elijah Cummings was talking. It seems even congress was not immune to Shkreli’s insolence. The congressional hearing had no effect on the price of Daraprim.

Shkreli might be able to ignore common decency and congress but he couldn’t ignore his old friend the SEC. Four months after the infamous Daraprim hike, Shkreli was indicted and arrested by the SEC, generating even more search traffic than the price hike itself. While the public was already out for Shkreli’s head on a pike at this point, Shkreli’s antics during the trial certainly helped drive media frenzy and give viewers more reason to hate his guts. The government’s post-trial sentencing submission spells out seventy pages of Shkreli’s antics before, during, and after the trial in meticulous detail, including:

  • The aforementioned bounty on then-secretary Clinton’s hair
  • Making sexual threats towards a reporter and a political pundit
  • Making the case “more polarizing and popular” (his own words)
  • “Spending millions to influence the jury pool in Brooklyn.” (his own words, possibly an exaggeration)

Ironically, Shkreli would call the trial a “chess match of public opinion” and that he was “prosecuted for being a jerk.” Given that Shkreli himself attempted to make the trial into a public spectacle, we can imagine how bad he might be at chess.

Those of you keeping score at home might be wondering what a twenty-something pharmacology nerd has to say in order to get investors to fork over millions. Surprise, surprise, a ton of bullshit.

After running Elea Capital into the ground, Shkreli gained investors trust for his fund, MSMB Capital, by drastically misrepresenting its assets, profits, other investors, investment strategy, and oversight. When this fund, like Elea Capital, also crashed and burned, Shkreli fabricated documents showing the fund was still in the black. Doubling down, Shkreli started another fund MSMB Healthcare with a different set of investors and simultaneously founded pharmaceutical company Retrophin with diverted funds from the former, all the while syphoning off cash to pay personal expenses and debts. When that ponzi scheme eventually fell apart, Retrophin wound up paying out around $10 million to Shkreli’s defrauded investors as a result of Shkreli’s shenanigans, even though Retrophin’s board never approved the illegal agreements or participated in the funds’ management. Even before Shkreli’s indictment Retrophin would file a $65 million lawsuit against Shkreli, its former CEO, over these entanglements. Confused yet? It’s not just you. Prosecutors tried to use the “especially complex or intricate” nature of the offenses to attach a sophistication enhancement to the length of Shkreli’s sentence.

In the end, Shkreli went down on three of the eight counts he was charged with, all three being related to securities fraud. This Shkreli chose to frame as a decisive victory, despite being ordered to forfeit $7.4 million in assets and got seven years in the clink. To this day, Shkreli maintains that nobody lost money on his funds, and to his credit, the prosecution reluctantly agrees:

“The truth is that the MSMB Capital and MSMB Healthcare investors did not ultimately suffer monetary losses—as measured over a period of, in some cases, five or six years—only because of Shkreli’s ability to avoid detection of his prior frauds, and to keep them going long enough to successfully manipulate the price and trading volume of Retrophin shares so that the shares he distributed to MSMB Capital and MSMB Healthcare investors had value.”

All’s well that ends well, right? Nobody lost money, the jerk went to prison, and the media got one last juicy story out of nobody having to read Shkreli’s misogynistic tweets anymore. But here’s the catch: Shkreli’s sentence had nothing to do with why we hate him. Shkreli didn’t go to prison for pulling medicine out of the mouth of the little man, he went to prison for defrauding investors, millionaires gullible enough to shell out six or seven figures to a fast-talking publicly maligned egomaniac. The state and its court system declared those investors, not the patients, to be the real victims of Shkreli’s antics. Now, ironically, those same investors, who were paid off in Retrophin stock, end up directly reaping the profits of Retrophin’s Thiola price hike.

But let’s not whip ourselves into a proletarian rage just yet. Generally speaking, investors don’t play a direct role in management of firms if they are not on the board of directors. They are neither good nor evil, nor is there evidence that the ones here were specifically intending to profit off pharmaceutical market-cornering. They are merely profit-motivated individuals who play roughly the same game as every other capitalist* agent: make money.

But how is that different than the actions of our protagonist, Martin Shkreli? Except with respect to his convictions for securities fraud, Shkreli was entirely within his legal rights as a capitalist** to price his product any amount he chooses. In fact, in the pharmaceutical industry, this happens pretty frequently; Martin Shkreli just gloated about it more than every other CEO and that’s why the Shkreli saga played out on the national stage. Every villain needs a face, and Shkreli happily gave capitalism a very punchable face.

But the Shkreli episode is uniquely American in two ways. First, Shkreli’s rise has all the hallmarks of the American dream: humble parents, maverick risk taking, and a theoretically repeatable path to success. Secondly, because Shkreli’s price hikes wouldn’t have worked anywhere else in the developed world. These tactics only work in the United States because of two compounding factors.

The first factor is all that regulation discussed above. Without high barriers for bioequivalency set by the FDA, competitors would be able to make and market alternatives to undercut the price of Daraprim or Thiola. Of course, totally deregulating medication would produce plenty of its own issues, but the FDA has clearly failed to effectively toe the line between libertarianism and consumer protection. The FDA is aware of this issue, but I’m not going to hold my breath for a solution.

The second issue is that unlike most developed countries, the US does not use a single payer healthcare system. Single payer systems counter drug-producer monopolies with drug-buyer monopsonies, bringing down prices. Maybe Senator Sanders turning down Shkreli’s campaign contribution made all the difference.

Speaking of senators, where the hell was congress this whole time? Despite drawing statements and tweets from numerous congressmen and even house committees, not a single law changed affecting these tactics in the pharmaceutical industry. If anything, Shkreli’s utter contempt on the Capitol Building floor showed that congress was all talk and totally unwilling to take substantive action on the issue. Congress’s tacit defense of the status quo should hardly come as a surprise given the $152 million that pharmaceutical companies spent lobbying congress in 2016.

In professional wrestling there is a type of character called a “heel”, someone who exists to be hated, who revels in the fans’ jeers. This is how Shkreli saw himself. He said in a Vice interview regarding the Wu-Tang Clan album, “I’m not just the heel of the music world, I want to be the world’s heel.” And he played this role flawlessly, from the pharma boardroom to c-span to his bedroom, he built up a 4-chan-like fandom around his outsized “pharma bro” character.

If real life were sensible enough to have a plot, I argue that taking Shkreli’s character at face value distracts from the message. Shkreli was despised because he went out of his way to get on national television, then behave like a caricature of the 0.1%. However, Shkreli’s behavior in the boardroom was hardly unique among corporations. Rather than a villain, Shkreli behaves like an anti-hero, taking American capitalism to its logical extreme. He doesn’t just make as much money as possible, he does so in ways that spotlight in brilliant 1080p embedded Youtube the most unjust mechanisms in our economic system and the most impotent, counterproductive legislative oversight available. Martin Shkreli elevates capitalism to a performing art. When he finally met his demise, Martin Shkreli did so not at the hands of the American people, but at the hands of other capitalists he crossed flying too close to the fiscal sun.

 

*def: An advocate of capitalism.

**def: A person who has capital, especially extensive capital, invested in business enterprises.

A Tactical Guide to Winning Scholarships

Preface

This essay was in response to an email from a friend of my mother requesting tips and sources with which to help her son apply to scholarships in his senior year of high school. It has been slightly abridged from its original version.

I. Introduction

I have put the time into writing a brief essay here, firstly because I genuinely enjoy writing and I think I’m good at it, both of which are critical to writing essays. Secondly, I wish I had had someone to explain these things to me. I did not follow this procedure when I applied, but if I had, I would have won more money, or at least wasted less time. The scholarship game is solely and entirely about winning, and if it is not played to win then it should not be played at all. This essay is a tactical guide for applying to scholarships during the junior and senior year of high school.

II. Game Theory

Applying to scholarships is a numbers game, but not in the sense that a shotgun apply-to-as-many-as-possible strategy is optimal. Using the formula…
Expected value = award amount * number of scholarships / number of applicants
…you can see that the best scholarships are not the largest ones, but typically the ones with the least applicants. Therefore, despite the list I include below, your son will probably not do particularly well by shooting for all of them, especially since that would be exhausting. The highest expected value scholarships will most likely be ones offered by, in the following order
  1. Any professional organizations or unions your family is involved in
  2. Your High School
  3. Your School District
  4. The State of Washington
  5. Your son’s most likely college
  6. Federal
  7. Foreign governments
  8. Nationally organized faith, ethnic, political, or other organizations, corporations, or scholarships applying to specific academic fields.
Scholarships from professional organizations are basically the only scholarships you can expect to get, even if they are not often more than $1000. The applicant pool is often only a few people, so the odds are very good. School and school district scholarships are similar but your success might be linked to your GPA compared to your classmates and your reputation around school and among your teachers. The great State of Washington actually offers a large number of scholarships and these tend to be for substantial amounts of money. A large number of people apply, but they also have enough funds to distribute multiple of the same scholarships. Sometimes these scholarships will be restricted to Washington residents and/or people attending Washington public colleges. I recommend applying to every scholarship in these categories for which you are eligible. The odds are good enough that you, on average, if you are a good writer, and have good grades, and put effort into it, will probably make more than minimum wage.
The second half are not worth as much. College-specific scholarships are often not available until you are properly enrolled, but check anyway. Sometimes scholarships are worked into the college application process. Federal grants are similar to state grants: big and numerous, but they tend to be heavily need-based. If you are poor, adult, orphaned, veteran, married, have kids, or otherwise fall into a category the federal government sponsors, these are much more valuable and do these first. They can potentially pay for your entire schooling. However, need-based scholarships are beyond the scope of this essay and my expertise.
Foreign governments are hit and miss. Check with your embassy if you are a foreign national. If you wish to study outside the US, certain governments are happy to sponsor Americans into their universities, notably Japan.
Miscellaneous national scholarships are by far the easiest to find and generally what people think of when the topic of the scholarship grind comes up. However, they are extraordinarily difficult to win on account of the massive number of applicants (since they are easy to find and frequently compiled on scholarship lists) and usually lack multiple prizes. In my opinion, these are the least efficient scholarships.

III. Time management

When applying to colleges, often essays can be recycled between colleges if the essay prompts are sufficiently similar. Hence, the marginal effort for each next essay gets lower with each new college. The 12th essay is a lot easier to write than the first. This advantage exists in scholarship essays, but to a lesser extent. Organizations like schools and the government are likely to have sufficiently generic essay prompts that essays can be recycled, even from college applications themselves.
If I recall correctly, I could write about 100 words an hour out of high school. At that rate, a 500 word essay takes 5 hours, plus another 3 for identifying the scholarship, editing, filling out the scholarship, and various forms of procrastination, for a total of around 8 hours. Consider the expected value equation: if the scholarship is for $1000, there is one scholarship available, and 100 people apply, you will be, on average, winning $10 for working 8 hours, or $1.25 an hour. You would be better off flipping burgers. But that’s actually an overestimate. In reality, you do not have an average chance of winning. If you are average and write an average essay, you have a 0% chance of winning, because the best essay has a 100% chance of winning, and then you get squat. So if you’re not willing to do your research finding relatively obscure scholarships, and willing to put in the time to write literally the best essay, applying to scholarships is a massive waste of time. To some extent, quality over quantity.

IV. Battle Plan

Doing things in the right order will keep you from missing opportunities and keep you from wasting time on less lucrative opportunities. First, spend as long as you can tolerate finding every possible scholarship you qualify for and order them in a spreadsheet that includes:
  • Application URL
  • Due date
  • Essay prompt
  • Essay word count
  • Any extraneous requirements
  • Prize amount
  • Number of prizes
  • Your subjective estimated number of applicants
Once you have found every essay you conceivably qualify for, arrange them in order of expected value (hint: use Excel’s data sort function). This is going to a hand-wavy estimate at best due to the estimated number of applicants, but it’s the best we got.

V. Scheduling

Rather than work on the highest expected value scholarships first, I recommend committing to a set number of applications, then committing to writing that many applications. This way, you can work in order of upcoming deadlines rather than expected value without risking missing any of the highest value scholarships because you were working on something else. Hopefully not too many deadlines overlap. At this point I recommend putting the deadlines in your calendar. It’s possible to write an essay a week on top of a typical high school course load and extra curriculars. This is probably pretty hard. One a month is probably pretty easy. How ever many you attempt, having a set goal and grinding towards it predictably does wonders for morale. It lets you know when you’re done and how far you have left to go.

VI. Writing

Writing well is extraordinarily difficult and I can’t teach it in an essay. However, here is the short list of things to remember:
  • There is no excuse for poor punctuation or grammar.
  • Follow the dang prompt.
  • Avoid cliche topics.
Most importantly, have someone proofread and edit every essay. This is the single best way to improve your essays and writing skills. Additionally, it lets the writer share the burden. Even a classmate is better than nothing but an experienced writer is best. Having two different people read each essay is likely optimal as they will notice different aspects. Current or past English teachers are excellent for this job. Parents are not unless they have an unusually good relationship with the student, and are actually competent writers themselves. By far the most common and efficient method for collaborative editing is to use MS Word’s track changes and comments features. This is how I and most scientists write research manuscripts together.

VII. Incentives

So how do you get your student to spend weekends grinding essays instead of WoW mobs? And how do you get them to write good essays, not just crap to check boxes and get you off their back? Teenagers are frequently poor at making long term investments. You can use any stick and carrot you want but it won’t produce winning essays if the student is trying to please you but not trying to win. If your student is paying for their education alone, this problem kind of solves itself. But if you intend to pay for your student’s education but also want your student to win any scholarships possible, there isn’t much incentive there to put real effort into the essays. This is why (in this situation, which you may not be in) I recommend the following policy:
For any scholarship your student wins, promise them a percentage of the winnings immediately, in cash, with no strings attached. Somewhere between 10 – 50% will probably produce results. $100 cash to a teenager is a lot of money while $1000 in their parents’ bank account is an abstraction.
There are a lot of things that can motivate people. Duty to family is a great one, and if your son is willing to write ten thousand heartfelt words to make their parents’ lives easier, then you have done an anomalously good job parenting. But the only incentives you can always manufacture are greed and fear, and fear is detrimental to the creative writing process.Trust me; I’m young enough that I still hang out with teenagers.

VIII. Conclusion

Winning scholarships is not about writing the most essays, but about grabbing the lowest hanging fruit as quickly as possible. Not everything out there is worth pursuing. Approach it haphazardly and you might polish your writing skills, but you won’t make much money on it, and it will take you a very long time.

Holy Book Review: The Old Testament

I recently finished reading the Bible. It took me about two years, on and off, mostly reading on Société de Transport de Montréal’s bus 104, the Green and Orange lines, Seattle Metro’s 271, and most recently, the Link Light Rail, as the onboard computer refers to it.

I read the whole thing cover to cover for the same reason I used to go to church-related events when invited (I don’t go anymore because people stopped inviting me…hmmm). That is, to better understand Christians and the world in which I live. This nation is absolutely a Christian nation in terms of the personal beliefs of the majority of people holding the majority of power for the majority of its history. Vast swaths of literature and art allude to scripture, doctrines and dogma play a ceaseless role in politics, and 83% of Americans self-identify as Christians. However, given that only 20% of Americans have actually read the book start to finish, there seems to be a lot of room for what engineers refer to as “tolerance”, as well as metric fuck-cubits of intolerance (biblically justified or otherwise), and outright lies. Ultimately, I wanted to know who is full of shit and who isn’t. After all, what people pound on is just as telling as what they omit.

I read the Old Testament in the New International Translation (NIV) and the New Testament in the New English Translation (NET). Both are considered “Moderate use between of formal and dynamic equivalence (optimal equivalence)” [1], which means they are tend to translate ideas in longer chunks (i.e. sentences vs. words) than the King James Version. Both are considered well researched, modern English translations. NET, however, contains translation footnotes. A lot of footnotes. 60932 footnotes. This works out to 1.96 footnotes per verse. The result is a book published exclusively electronically with the footnotes about 2.5 times longer than the actual 800,000 word Bible. Naturally I did not read all of the translation notes, but when I found something confusing, contradictory, or apparently nonsensical, there was nearly always an explanation. Sometimes that cleared things up; sometimes the theologians were just as confused as me. But it would suffice to say that I very rarely found their explanations lacking or me doubting the translatability of the preceding Hebrew/Greek/Aramaic. If content was lost or distorted over the millennia, I am convinced that the three centuries of internal Christian theological and political turmoil between Jesus’s departure(s) and the Bible actually getting compiled had a lot more to do with it than shoddy translation.

In retrospect I really do wish I had used a physical Bible and taken notes or at least kept track of my most remarkable passages. I think that as an atheist, I lack confirmation bias (and often suffer from the opposite) and therefore read religious texts in a fundamentally different way than people who actually place some sort of divine or moral authority in them. I am a lot more likely to point out passages like

“If a woman does not cover her head, she should have her hair cut off; and if it is a disgrace for a woman to have her hair cut or shaved off, she should cover her head.”

1 Corinthians 11:6

but managed to gloss over John 3:16 entirely without inspiration. As such, it would have been nice to be able to compare notes with my fellow amateur theist and non-theist theologians, but at least my eBibles have search functions.

Of course there are a plethora of humorously nonsensical verses I could quote

And in case men struggle together (in a fight) with one another, and the wife of the one has come near to deliver her husband out of the striking one (to save her husband), and she has thrust out her hand and grabbed hold of his private (the other man’s groin), she must then get both her hands cut off, and the eyes of the men must feel no sorrow.

[Deuteronomy 25:11-12]

but I would rather limit myself to a few passages that I think one does not typically find without slogging through the whole thing, and/or challenge dominant opinions about the nature of God.

First off,

The Nephilim were in the earth in those days, and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bore children to them; the same were the mighty men that were of old, the men of renown.

[Genesis 6:4]

has pretty much no explanation and only appears once else, where they are described as giants. I thought this was interesting because the literary device of introducing the text with a fantastical, implausible fable also occurs in the eponymously named Taoist text by Zhuangzi. The point there, so I have read, was to point out that nothing in the ensuing text should be taken more literally than

In the dark sea of the north there is a fish; it is named the Kun. The Kun is so huge no one knows how many thousand li he measures. Changing, it becomes a bird; it is named the Peng, so huge no one knows how many thousand li he measures. Aroused, it soars aloft, its wings like clouds hung from the sky. As the sea shifts, it turns to set its course toward the dark sea of the south, the Pool of Heaven.

Zhuangzi

It is almost as if Genesis takes place in a different time and place than our own and that we may not want to read into it too precisely.

Genesis is then followed by Exodus and the Adventures of Moses. This part is full of philosophical conundrums, but is pretty exciting, which is probably why I remember some of it from Sunday school. Here we see some of the first non-God based (secular?) magic happening when Moses turns the Nile to blood and Pharaoh’s magicians do the same. I wonder where this power came from, or if things just worked differently back then. If so, miracles get a lot less impressive and it’s kind of understandable why Pharaoh might be unconvinced. Regardless, God screwing with Pharaoh’s free will might have something to do with his unreasonableness.

During plagues #1 – 5 we see Pharaoh as a cold hearted dictator with after each plague, “his heart remained hard.” However, after plague #6 (boils) we see

The magicians could not stand before Moses because of the boils, for boils were on the magicians and on all the Egyptians. But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he did not listen to them, just as the Lord had predicted to Moses.

[Exodus 9:11-12]

In plague #7 Pharaoh flip flops all by himself, but in #8 God is back at it again [Exodus 10:20]. Now this seems pretty unfair to Pharaoh, not to mention the people of Egypt who probably don’t live in a democracy and really end up as cannon fodder in their king’s labor dispute. It kind of brings up some interesting questions about free will, what with God directly influencing the emotions of an adversary of the Hebrews in order to extend the Hebrews’ slavery, meet his plague quota, and perpetuate the animosity between the two parties. The book could have been over there and then with the Isrealites smugly wandering off into the Sinai with the smoldering ruins of Egypt in the background like the trailer to a new Fallout game but nope, God drags it out by effectively mind controlling Pharaoh. It’s more like God is battling it out with himself while the Egyptian masses get wiped off the board like the pieces in a Pixar short.

Leviticus and Deuteronomy are probably the most cited books with respect to silliness and rules that can and should be ignored. One passage that warrants discussion by skeptics shows up among the many dietary restrictions in the Teachings.

Whatever parts the hoof and is cloven-footed and chews the cud, among the animals, you may eat. Nevertheless, among those that chew the cud or part the hoof, you shall not eat these: The camel, because it chews the cud but does not part the hoof, is unclean to you. And the rock badger, because it chews the cud but does not part the hoof, is unclean to you. And the hare, because it chews the cud but does not part the hoof, is unclean to you. [Leviticus 11:3-6]

Now there are a few attempted explanations:

  1. The Bible is scientifically inaccurate about rabbits. This is inconvenient for a lot of reasons, mostly biblical infallibility.
  2. The Bible is mistranscribed or mistranslated. Same problem.
  3. The ancient Hebrews had a different concept of cud-chewing (for instance, extensive chewing of non-ruminant non-regurgitated plant matter in a manner visually similar but biologically distinct from that of modern ruminants.)
  4. Rabbits evolved in the last few thousand years. This did not happen.

The issue with explanation 3 is that if we accept that there is some inapplicability and imprecision of concepts spanning several thousand years on something as relatively straightforward as rabbits, how can we speak confidently about any of the Bible, more so the confusing parts that make up the difference between literal life and eternal damnation. I know a lot of Christians have pretty much come to terms with a tacit resignation to imperfect comprehension, but also a lot have not.

The several books consist largely of the Israelites kicking ass with God’s help. Enemies get smitten in the hundreds of thousands. The Israelites build an awesome wooden box that leads them to victory in battle. It is made to precise dimensions and is housed in a tent, also with precise dimensions that take up dozens of pages. It is a pretty badass time to be a Jew, unless you’re that poor sob who gets the Arc dropped on him, causing him to get smote by the wrath of God.

Given how awesome it is to be a Jew right now, it’s a bit unusual that Jews, particularly the kings who talk to God probably more often than I talk to my terrestrial father, would jump ship and worship some other sky dude as often as they do (hint: a lot). It’s really obvious that the Hebrew God exists since, well, he talks, kills more people in a day than ebola ever did, and manifests as a column of fire. So if we assume the Hebrew protagonists and nameless masses have any sort of rationality about them, there must be some reason for this impiety. Possibilities:

  1. God’s miracles were less impressive irl than they are on record.
  2. There were other gods about (Baal, Maloch, Andramelech, and the gods of the rest of the Hebrews’ enemies) were similarly impressive as Yahweh.

A lot of other gods show up in the Old Testament and their existence plays a big role in the shaping of the Kingdoms of Judea and Israel. In fact, they show up so much, by name, that it makes one wonder if there was not a time that Jews did not believe in other gods, but put theirs first. Afterall, the Second Commandments states “Thou shalt have no other gods before me,” but says conspicuously nothing of gods after.

In the book of Esther, a bunch of the characters from 300 make cameo appearances.

I liked the Book of Job a lot. Job was “Pure and upright.” A real upstanding fellow, and God liked him a lot. He has a loving family, a lot of cows, and God smiles upon him. Things are going well. Then Satan basically makes a bet with God to see if Job’s faith and love will hold even when things go south. So naturally God has Satan kill Job’s whole family and gives Job an ulcer. Job is understandably a little miffed and wants to die, but his faith is unshaken.

Enter Job’s shitty friends. They point out that God does not let any suffer undeservedly. But we have already established that Job had done nothing wrong. The friends give Job the unsympathetic but practical advice to beg God for forgiveness. Job (rightly) insists he is blameless. A very long argument ensues which was presumably more poetic in its original language.

In the end, God interrupts the debate and…gives no explanation except to proclaim his own superior wisdom. Job repents and his family remains dead.

I liked Job because it was one of the only sections in the Bible that actually discusses theology making point and counterpoint. It addresses still unsolved topics like theodicy and the problem of evil, indicating that even the original authors were asking hard questions without finding good answers anywhere. Job is one of the few places in the Bible where I felt that there was a lot more going on than I was getting, not because of general biblical vagueness, but because Job is just really deep. Besides, God intervening into a theological debate transcribed into his own divinely inspired text is pretty much the most meta thing in the Bible.

The Psalms and Proverbs come along, in which the horrors of a nagging wife are reiterated orders of magnitude more thoroughly than [insert latest outrage] is ever addressed.

And then Song of Songs, an erotic ode to young love that has apparently very little to do with the divine, including such passages as

Your two breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, that graze among the lilies.

[Song of Songs 4:5]

But in all seriousness, if Solomon was a tits guy and Paul thought “It is better to marry than to burn with lust.” [1 Corinthians 7:9], maybe modern Christianity should put sex on the eschatological back burner.[1]

Honestly the rest of the Old Testament kind of blurs together for me and I don’t remember much of it.

In review, the Old Testament is a gross linearization of Jewish oral tradition, political history, tent measurements, dietary advice, theological debate, family trees, sacrifice inventory, and incest, a book in physical form only. Cover to cover it reads like an epically long schizophrenic death metal cover of a Sunday school lesson. However, discussing it in lengths shorter than pop song choruses compartmentalizes any complexity and intellectual diversity consciously expressed by the original authors themselves, stifling curiosity dangerous to those who wield the scripture. When bound together, it becomes far too complex and faceted, and far too heavy to be wielded as a weapon. But no matter what you believe, try to avoid constructing such beliefs on shaky and porous foundations. If you do, you become a danger to those around you. As these morally precarious dwellings become more numerous and more rotten, those who live downhill are right to build their own walls ever higher.

End of Part 1.

 

[1] Get it? Hell? Back burner? This is my blog and I’ll do what I want.

I’m a delegate!

Today I attended the Washington State 2016 Democratic Caucus in Mary Gates Hall, the same building where I got my first UW swag, presented my first research poster, and failed my first exam.

The caucus system is ridiculous. It is designed such that the infrastructure of the Democratic Party could logistically survive a technological apocalypse. All forms of modern communication are disregarded. About a thousand people were gathered in a room, divided by geographic location, issued verbal instructions on procedure, then left to their own devices to interpret the ambiguous, poorly relayed rules for how to divide up a fixed number of delegates who would, at a future date, physically go to the legislative district caucuses. These delegates are identified by a small yellow piece of paper. They gave me one of these because nobody else wanted to do it and because I pretended to understand the rules.

12799185_10209113821311002_8620241935993409306_n.jpg

It’s an embarrassingly archaic system for a modern democracy. The purpose of a caucus is to allow for public debate among geographically proximate populations to facilitate block voting. But in the age of the internet, I suspect that not a single person who attended the caucus had not already made up their mind.

There are allegations of impropriety at virtually every stage of the primary process. Having now attended a caucus, I suspect that this is not because people are dishonest, even the factions I do not support. I am pretty sure it’s because the caucus system is fucking ridiculous and that nobody, even the people running it, have any idea what the hell is going on. It was not clear to our precinct if we should even give Clinton any delegates, and a more aggressive Bernie camp probably would have misinterpreted the rules not to. There was essentially no oversight to prevent browbeating, intimidation, miscounts, mathematical errors, and any number of other things that could go wrong. It’s like if you got your neighborhood together and determined your delegates based a rousing game of Diplomacy. Never played diplomacy before? That’s my point.

But in spite of the rounding errors, bureaucratic failures, and political antiquity, it was a rousing, refreshing experience. To see a thousand people get together and participate civilly in the democratic process is so radically different than the current political climate at the national level that I’m not sure I even knew what it was supposed to look like before. The caucus system is absurd, but also a politics nerd’s wet dream.

Engineering: Tea Cups

Some people are averse to engineering and the sciences because they think they are impersonal. I thought this for a while and simply accepted it as the price I pay for an interesting, profitable, humanitarian field. And this is true for a lot of it, but high level engineering is very much the opposite. Engineering is the root of design, and good design must account for culture, religion, disability, human shapes and sizes, language, and really pretty much everything else that makes us human. I think that people who find engineering inanimate ought to try to redesign something for a different group of people. This game is in the same vein as another great past time for the disruptive: generating startup ideas. A good example of redesign is London’s bomb-proof trash cans which also let you know when the tube’s late. Reverse engineering the solution I think we can derive something about the priorities of Londoners.

A more difficult game that I play with Joe is to take objects and devices and challenge the other person to figure out precisely why they are made the way they are. Why are tires inflated instead of porous? Why are guitars shaped like that? What the hell are codpieces for? Sometimes the answers are cultural, sometimes they are physical, sometimes both, which goes to illustrate the tension between what is technically superior and what is aesthetically and culturally pleasant, and that there is not always an optimal solution, as much as we might try.

For those of you watching at home, here is a puzzle you can try to work out yourself:

How do the circumstances during which British people and Asian people drink tea affect the design of their respective tea vessels, or to put it another way, why do British people use mugs while Asian people use small cups?

This image is here so that you don’t accidentally start reading the answer below.

940px-WorldTeaProductionFAO2008.svg.png
The original caption from Wikipedia is “Percentage of total tea production in 2008: Less that .5% or insignificant quantities / From .5 to 1% / From 1 to 5% / From 5 to 10% / From 10 to 20% / From 10 to 20%” Who knew they grew so much tea in Argentina? Probably yerba mate.

 

 

 

Done thinking? Here’s my answer:

  1. British people drink tea as the main course during a highly social meal, tea time, or before bed. Therefore it is optimal to drink the tea as slowly as possible, and not too much. To drink it at the optimal temperature (hot) over a long conversation or chapter of a favorite book in bed requires a large volume of tea contained in a thick walled vessel, such as a mug. Chinese people on the other hand drink tea usually as the only beverage during a meal, which means drinking as much tea as possible. This requires cooling the tea relatively quickly, consuming, and repeating. Hence, smaller, thin walled cups are used. In Vietnam, I observed even smaller cups, nearly the size of a thimble, when served tea at a rural Buddhist temple.
  2. British people drink tea with milk, sugar and other additives, while Asians drink it plain. Since the quantity of additives is a personal preference, it is offensive to add them to the communal tea pot. However, adding additives to small vessels repeatedly would be bothersome and more difficult to proportion than in a larger cup. Therefore large vessels are more practical in Britain but irrelevant to Asia.

 

 

Valentine’s Day Chez Matt

Original recipes from Chef Matt Toles’s basement kitchen.

About these recipes

These recipes were created specially for St. Valentine’s Day 2016. With the exception of main ingredients, most of the procedures and quantities were made up on the spot. Ingredient quantities are not included but an experienced chef should be able to derive them independently, an exercise left to the reader.

Seafood Fantasia | Four Courses for Two | approx. $30

Local Hamma Hamma Oysters from Hood Canal

  • 6 Oyster
  • Lemon
  • Dill
  • Salt
  • Ice

Shuck and plate oysters on ice. Garnish with dill. Serve with sliced lemon and cocktail sauce on a leak leaf.

Clam Bisque in Bread Bowl

  • Cream
  • Tomato paste
  • 12 steamer clams
  • Large rolls
  • Shallot
  • Garlic
  • White wine
  • Mushroom
  • Italian parsley
  • Oregano
  • Basil
  • Leak bottom
  • Salt and pepper
  • Butter
  • Corn starch
  • Worcester sauce
  • ginger

Boil clams until open with ginger and parsley. Strain and reserve stock. Replace clams in stock, add wine, Worcester sauce, and salt and reduce by two thirds. In small pan, saute small-diced shallots, garlic, mushrooms and spices. Add butter mixture to clams when slightly browned. Stir in tomato paste. Add cream to taste and correct seasoning. Add corn starch to desired viscosity. Remove from heat and stir in thinly sliced leak. Hollow out rolls, reserve bread for bread pudding. Toast lightly in oven. Ladle soup into bread bowls. Serve bread bowls in second bowl in case of structural failure.

Dungeness Crab and Ribeye Ravioli

For pasta:

  • 4 eggs
  • All purpose flour

Mix egg with flour, knead and roll flat. Let stand 30 min.

For filling:

  • Leftover steak, preferably grilled rare
  • Requesón or ricotta
  • Dungeness crab meat
  • Dill

Place one piece of steak and a lump of requesón, or requesón, crab and dill in piles, arranged in a grid, on one half of the pasta. Fold pasta over, cut and seal raviolis. Boil until done. Briefly air dry in colander.

Sauce:

  • Butter
  • Shallot
  • Garlic
  • Mushrooms
  • Peperoncini
  • Salt and pepper
  • Green olives
  • Artichoke hearts, canned
  • Artichoke juice from can
  • White wine
  • Italian parsley
  • Parmesan

Melt butter in pan. Add solid  ingredients in order cooking each lightly before the next. Add liquids and reduce. Stir in chopped italian parsley. Pour over raviolis on plate. Spoon on solids. Garnish with parmesan and a sprig of parsley

Plate and serve simultaneously so that you can enjoy with your date.

Bread Pudding Flambéed with Candied Lemon Rind

  • 2 egg yolks
  • 1 egg
  • Cream
  • Milk
  • Sugar
  • Vanilla extract
  • Bread pieces
  • Lemon rind, julienned
  • Cream
  • Cinnamon
  • Cognac or brandy

Cream egg, egg yolks and sugar. Heat cream, milk and vanilla extract to a simmer. Stir cream mixture into eggs. Pour over bread pieces in shallow bowls, ensuring to submerge bread. Dissolve sugar in water, hypersaturated over medium heat. Add lemon rind and cook until syrup turns golden brown. Pour over bread and custard. Bake until slightly firm. Chill overnight.

Serving:

Serve bread pudding. Heat brandy to a simmer. Light in pot or kettle with match and pour over puddings at the table.

Drinks

The meal was served with an Olive Grove Chardonnay and sparkling hong cho

Post Meal Debrief

I think food should be as much fun to cook as to eat, and variety is the spice of life. I usually get bored of a recipe after the first iteration, so I rarely make the same dish more than once. Sometimes meals are slight variations, sometimes mad experiments. This meal was a bit of both.

I know Heather hasn’t eaten much top-notch western food, and she cooks much better Chinese than I do, so I figured I’d play to my strengths. Nobody is impressed by something they can make anyhow.

Grocery shopping around the U District is pretty weak and I don’t own a car, but there is an excellent (if pricey) fish shop here, so I took advantage of that.

I picked fresh oysters as an appetizer because

  • Heather had not tried them before
  • Does not need immediate serving
  • No salad, so a cold dish compliments well

The bisque was fun to make. Soups in general lend themselves to improvisation. This one was so thick it could have passed for a pasta sauce. Could have used some crackers.

I would have gone for a cream based sauce for the ravioli but I think that would have been both redundant with the bisque and drowned out the dungeness crab. Heather likes restaurants that give a lot of food, so I made the raviolis huge (about 2.5”x2.5”). Skins were a little thick. I need a pasta maker. The sauce was fairly gentle with a little zing from the pepperoncinis. Raviolis should have been stuffed more, but crab is expensive. Next time I would use a stronger cheese with the beef and maybe add some mushrooms (or truffles if I suddenly win the lottery). Ricotta is too weak and soft for steak.

The dessert was highly experimental. It would have been excellent had I avoided some technical bumps with the flambéing. Bits of bread and lemon were poking out of the pudding and acted as wicks to the flame. To prevent them from charring, we had to blow it out, which prevented some of the alcohol from burning off. This made the entire thing a bit boozy, but still an exciting dish.

Seafood for this meal costed $16. I didn’t count the rest, but in total, ingredients probably ran around $30.

20160214_194702.jpgI probably should have taken better photos, but we were really hungry

Getting Places

Most places worth going are not easy to get to. The path is usually much steeper and muddier than than it looks from the outside and very often the walker must pay so much attention just to keep from slipping and spend so much energy just to get unstuck from the mud that he does not even realize how far he has come. At some point, he turns around and for the first time cannot see where he began, that he has broken through cloud cover, lowland marshes have given way to alpine forests, and that the way forward is every bit as difficult as the way back, but the place he’s gotten has a really excellent view.

At some point last week I offhandedly made the comment that we might be expanding operations to Iraq and Syria. For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been leading an Engineers Without Borders team for about five months designing and building polio surveillance devices for labs around the world. It’s a small part of an enormous initiative to reduce false negatives in the quest to eradicate polio, which has a nasty habit of coming back whenever water and sewage infrastructure gets destroyed and/or immunization starts to lapse. Poliovirus is endemic to Pakistan and Afghanistan and either at risk of resurging or under surveillance in a number of other countries. Our team, working with a couple of UW labs, has built and delivered elution devices (an apparatus that removes poliovirus from a filter and transfers it to a sample container) to labs in Pakistan, Haiti, Mexico, South Africa, Kenya, and the United States. We might take on Iraq and Syria in the near future. We’re building two more just in case.

“We might be expanding operations to Iraq and Syria,” it didn’t really register to me as anything particularly unusual to have the context to state truthfully. Then someone interjected “Woh there, Hillary.”

To put it boastfully, a delegate of the World Health Organization has asked me to do something about a problem caused by Daesh. But to put it more mildly and more precisely with respect to how I feel about it, the stakes just got a little higher on my after-school club. We’re still just some starry-eyed hot shot undergrads who think they can change the world, but in the last five months we’ve proved we can deliver. We built something and it’s pulling polio of filters in Pakistan right now and the fact that the Pakistanis haven’t called us and told us it’s broken means it works. So wherever we are, we’re not even halfway there yet, but it’s got a killer view.

Bill Gates reblogged a comic by the XKCD guy Randall Munroe about what we do:

polio comic.png

To everyone on the polio team, you guys friggin’ rock.

On Engineering

I’ve kind of stopped following politics, debating religion, reading news, and acknowledging social activism. My primary news source is Hacker News. My extracurriculars consist of Engineers Without Borders, engineering research, more engineering research, writing engineering graduate school apps and grants, learning to code, and running an engineering startup. I used to be a really versatile and diverse person, but now basically all I do is engineering, and for the moment, I don’t miss the other stuff. Firstly, there’s a lot of variety in engineering. A lot of it is writing, which I do sometimes get tired of, but clearly not for the moment, as I’m blogging about engineering. But on Friday I learned to weld. Tomorrow I’m modding a digital lithographic printer. Today I submitted our application to the premier startup accelerator.

I don’t miss politics, social justice, economics, and other current events and societal issues because it’s really really hard to do anything about them. To get anything done you usually have to have the help of a lot of people, or a few powerful people, or both, and even then it usually doesn’t work. If you want to make something happen in engineering, it’s sometimes possible to make it happen single handedly. With society, the more you learn about it, the more you realize your powerlessness. The more you learn about engineering, the more powerful you are.

Mil and Weed

Liam finished his internship so now I have to work all by myself, which means more adventures in Southwest Philly. Philadelphia has a really big Ivorian population. I don’t know how big it is, but most of the Africans I talk to are from Ivory Coast, and the African population is large enough to support explicitly African grocery stores, hair stylists, restaurants, and boutiques. Muslims hav enough strength in numbers to safely hold mosque outdoors.

I really like street food and other anarchic cuisines, and Philadelphia seems to be one of the most tolerant places in the country for this. I’ve never seen entrepreneurship quite like the black neighborhoods in Philly where one can can find all manner of people hustling. Food trucks abound with hot dogs and hamburgers if the owners are American, fried noodles and rice if they are Asian, or halal shawarma and gyros if they are from the Middle East. Teenagers sell cold drinks out of coolers at fairs, sports games, and other public gatherings. A few plywood shacks have sprung up north of Chestnut Street where you can get candy and cigarettes and whatnot from men in kufis. To get the most calories for a buck, nearly every corner store has a griddle and deli in the back that serves cheesesteaks and hoagies regardless of the ethnicity of the owner. African women on Woodland Avenue sit on milk crates and sell peanuts and things. The Eritreans seem to have established a bit of a produce cartel selling vegetables out of trucks that never leave their parking spaces. There are about five of them. I suspect they have banded together to buy surplus produce in bulk from somewhere, since they all know each other and their wares are all the same but vary week to week. They are fun to buy from because you can haggle their prices even lower than Aldi’s German efficiency can undercut. That is, when you can make yourself understood.

The other day I stopped by two men on Woodland selling some sort of fried, round bread in plastic bags, five at a time, and some sort of white porridge in containers.

“What is this?”

“One dollar,” said the first

“Two dollars,” said the second

“But what is it?”
“Two dollars and two dollars.”

Clearly I was not being understood. I switched to French. It’s often nice to find someone in a foreign country who speaks English. I’ve gotten to be that person with (broken) Chinese once in a while in the US, but not French yet. These Ivorians were especially amused. Asian Americans aren’t supposed to speak French. Of course, this didn’t make answering my question any simpler. This is even more difficult to write because there are three dialogues: The French dialogue, the English translation, and the words I don’t understand because my French is not good enough, they are using African words I don’t know, or they are using heavily accented English inside French sentences. English will be written as normal. French will be italicized, and unknown sounds will be written phonetically in bold.

“What is this?

Weed”

“What?”

Weed and that one is mil[mil means a thousand, but that wouldn’t make]

“What is weed made out of?

“Wheat flour.” [maybe weed = wheat?]

“And the other one is mil?”

“Yes”

“What is mil made out of?”

“It is made of mil, but sometimes rice or wheat flour. This mil is mil though”

“And you eat this for what meal?”

“Any meal. All the time.”

I paid and they sent somebody inside a store to get change, and then I left with my bounty of mil and weed.

When I got home I shared the weed with my Ivorian roommate who accused me of making her nostalgic and called them beignes, which to me means the kind of donut you get at Tim Hortons, or galettes, which my dictionary describes as

-A buckwheat pancake

-A potato galette (wow, not helpful)

-A shortbread biscuit

-A Breton galette (seriously?)

-A waffle

-Cash

-Dough (slang for cash)

-A CD

None of these were remotely close to the dry, slightly sweet ball of tough fried dough I was eating. It seems the language is being adapted to the cuisine. Mil was even worse: “Mil is mil. I don’t know it in English.”

mil

The white spheres tended to coalesce into clumps at the bottom of the container. They were a bit bland but the viscous liquid they were suspended in was rather sweet and fragrant with a hint of lemon. I later translated this with a dictionary as millet. Of course nobody knows how to fucking translate that.

People used to tell me that French was not a useful language, but these people have never been to West Philadelphia.

Travel Log 06 July 2015, approx. 17:00 – 19:00

I spent a lot of time deciding whether or not to post it. The writing style is pretentious and I talk like I’m some sort of adventuring guru. But it’s just a fucking blog and this is actually how I feel about what I do, so I’m just gonna do something that makes me uncomfortable and post it, because that’s what adventuring is all about. You can call me a pretentious, shitty writer, but I’ll be damned if you can call me a hypocrite.

I biked home from work today. Work is situated about ten miles south by southeast of home on a narrow strip of motels and industrial sprawl bastioned from the less-than-prosperous suburbs of Philadelphia by the Delaware Expressway on one side, and prone to the Delaware River on the other. Warehouses and hangars loom like mesas above an asphalt Sonora reflecting heat in waves on a smoggy horizon. SUVs graze their fence parking lots to the roots while semis stampede up the well-trodden 291 into the sunset for grayer pastures of Camden, New Jersey.

Crossing a dangerously shoulderless overpass and a polluted swamp masquerading as a wildlife refuge, I find myself at the geographic trailing edge of the White Flight airship, the furthest point from Center City that middle class caucasian families of 2.4 children abandoned when they invented Suburbia half a century ago. They left behind what became ten square miles of single digit wages and double digit poverty that make up South Philadelphia. This is where today’s adventure begins.

It is genuinely difficult to find someone who does not, at least ostensibly, want to travel. It is genuinely difficult to find someone who does not want to see the world, who does not want to meet new people and dip their feet into new cultures. That’s a good thing. But when those people with brown skin and foreign accents and smokey shops packed floor to ceiling with unpronounceable goods come to them with a piece of their home and plant it in this country, suddenly those neighborhoods become quarantined, contaminated by immigration ex desperation. They are to be avoided, traversed quickly with locked doors or bypassed entirely on the interstates overhead that roughly define their boundaries. They say they are sketchy. Dangerous. And compared to Center City or University City or the far flung suburbs, that’s almost certainly true. But the abnormally high number Floridians shot by their dogs is alone not a credible reason to dismiss its beaches and Cuban food. Just mind your own business and you’ll probably be okay.

The beauty of biking rather than driving through a city is that you move slow enough to still notice your surroundings, which gives you enough time to make a decision and stop. You can also hear, and there is quite a lot to hear.

I first stopped at an African grocer. Past a few shelves of canned and dry goods, they sold frozen chunks of  assorted mammals, cut to size by a meat-bandsaw in the back and ziplocked. An uncooled spartan deli counter contained gaunt smoked chicken limbs and four smoked fish in various states of dismemberment, along with a few less identifiable items. I left with a chunk of smoked fish, two pouches of okra, and a pouch of frozen habaneros for $6.50. The owner advised me to make the fish into soup.

Some miles on I locked my bike outside a live poultry vendor and went inside. On one side of a short, dim hallway stood a counter barricaded by a plexiglass sheet with a cutout at the bottom like a bank teller. At the end I could see cages stacked floor to ceiling full of chickens of various colors. The wall opposite the counter had handwritten prices for various breeds of chicken, quail, duck, rabbit, and prices of chicken and duck eggs. An African man emerged from the feathery, squawking darkness and asked me with the curt respectfulness of a veteran marketplace merchant what I would have. I requested duck eggs, as a live chicken would be difficult (but not impossible) to transport on a bicycle, and would probably not please my landlord, alive nor butchered in the kitchen. He said they were out but to check back on Monday. As I left, a black man entered and began negotiations, followed by two Asians. If you want to cook like back in the Old Country, I guess this is where you shop.

I went next door to a Jamaican deli, empty save the man behind the counter. He explained to me slowly each saucy dish steaming behind the glass and every possible pricing scheme for combining entrees, rices, and sides. I settled on goat curry, collard greens, steamed cabbage, and vegetable fried rice. Apart from the collard greens, it could have passed for Taiwanese food. Like most minorities, he wasn’t shy about asking where I was from. We talked about how his Chinese friends taught him a bit of Chinese and how he used to repel out of the helicopters  we build a work.

A well dressed woman came in and started talking some sort of business with the guy but he didn’t seem to be having any of it. She referred to things as “my company,” so having recently gotten into the startup scene (i’ll post something about that later) I inquired about her business. She told me to finish eating. I did so and then joined her at her table in the corner. She pulled out an ipad and played a video, in which Donald Trump tried to rope me into a multi-level marketing scheme selling internet service packages. I respectfully declined her offer and stood up to leave. She begged that she had just started and needed customers. I assured her I was not the right person to be talking to, packed up the remains of my goat, and biked home.

That’s it. There’s no moral to the story. Not even a plot. I didn’t make any friends. I don’t even remember how I got where I did, so I couldn’t even get back again if I wanted to. Maybe I learned something about the people of Philadelphia, but as of right now I’m not sure what. But it was weird and unexpected and a for a Monday afternoon after work, a pretty solid adventure.