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The Bird is the Word: Sophisticated Schoolyard Shenanigans

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A Clam Graduation

May 19, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 3 Comments

In this season of 5th-grade promotions, 8th-grade promotions, high-school graduations, and college graduations, of course we need to check in with Levi’s underwater friends to hear about . . . the clam graduation.

A bildungsroman by Levi Kassinove

Food poisoning is no joke. Deep in the waters of the North Atlantic ocean, a young clam by the name of Adam fights his impending diarrhea as he struggles to finish his AP Clamculus exam. Just a few more questions, I can hold it, he thinks as his stomach produces ungodly sounds that echo throughout the high school. His consciousness fades; Satan’s army knocks at his intestines, and finally he cannot bear it any longer. Forget the integrals. Adam rushes to the bathroom. By the time he gets back, there is 5 minutes left for the exam.  He curses under his breath. I think someone put laxatives in my morning fruit shake. 

When the exam finished, Adam went home, barely talking to anyone. He had just endured a silent yet excruciating battle, and nobody would ever know.  

Later that day, Adam burrowed in the sand and isolated himself from humaniclamity. Was he worth anything? The school year is ending, and so is clam childhood. Soon all of his friends would be in college; most would never see each other again. And, yet, his friends chose to waste precious time on ClamTok every day, every morning, every break, and every lunch. They were consumed by consumerism. Adam felt dead inside. His clamgirlfriend loved him and made him happy, of course, but Adam cared about everyone. However, he felt as if few really cared about him. Would he be missed? In college, in old age, where are those who share the memories?

Photo Source: Wikipedia

Adam dozed off. He resolved that he knows nothing, and that he will merely ride the waves of the ocean. That’s really all we can do. 

“DUDE, IT’S CLAM GRADUATION DAY” Adam’s phone buzzed, awakening him just 10 minutes before school started. It was his friend Jerryclam. Adam decided that he would no longer be rotten. He would suck it up (because he’s a filter feeder after all) and get to class. When he arrived, none of his friends said “Hi” to him. None even looked up from their phones. His final assignments were piling up and he couldn’t find in the deepest part of his shell the motivation to finish them. The world was ending right before his very eyes. He had already sunk to the bottom of the ocean, yet somehow he felt as if he could still sink lower. 

Finally, it was time for the graduation ceremony. It was underneath a kelp forest, brimming with marine society. High above the ceremony, seahorses danced among the seaweed. A school of tuna contorted, twisted, gyrated, transformed, and molded into various 3-dimensional shapes. A squid shot its ink in the face of a small shark, and an octopus blended in perfectly with the seaweeds. Dolphins slapped and tossed a pufferfish through the air, like in a game of catch or football. Light shown in an extremely particular way through the kelp, creating a viridescent glow upon the ocean floor. But in between the kelp was a certain slant of light that reflected only off the shell of Adam. This spotlight on Adam was almost mocking, teasing, inviting him to enjoy the ceremony, inviting him to join in.

The senior class of 2024 gathered underneath the kelp. Adam was indifferent. The universe is one big ocean, with waves crashing onto you every second. He could care less about graduating. Each clam was called one by one, donning their black cloaks and wearing those square caps, to get their diplomas. Adam’s name was called. But, before he went off, his friend Christopher pulled him aside. “Hey, are you okay? I know I’ve been somewhat distant, and I’m sorry.Maybe after school we can play video games?” 

Adam smiled. It was the second time he had felt any happiness that day, since Jerryclam texted him. As he took a picture with the Head of School, holding his diploma, a pearl suddenly materialized in his shell! 

Adam knew at that moment that everything was going to be okay. He happily flapped his shell home. As he was approaching his crater in the sand, he got caught in a net. All of his newfound feelings of joy and revival disappeared like an octopus escaping a predator. 

A few hours later, Adam was being served in a lovely garlic pasta in an upscale Italian restaurant. At least he wasn’t rotten. 

Photo Source: Allrecipes

Filed Under: Alternate Realities, Aquatic, Festivities Tagged With: A Clam Graduation, Levi Kassinove

The Little Fish That Never Could

May 2, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 3 Comments

As the Blog Staff imagines how life would have progressed with certain figures or events “erased,” Levi imagines(?) what life would have been if the “missing link” never crawled from the seas onto land.

By Junior Levi Kassinove 

“A real life ‘tail’ of what would have happened 400 billion years ago if fish never walked on the land.”

Levi Kassinove
Photo Source: Amazon.com

400 billion years ago, one brave aquarian caused a paradigm shift in the fabric of reality when he, Gleb, dared to travel above the surface. He saw unimaginable, incomprehensible sights. He gazed upon fantastical green mountains stretched across the horizon, giant blue mushrooms gossiping amongst themselves (presumably about our Gleb), and an old alte kaker of a rainbow eucalyptus tree yelling at clouds off in a forgotten corner of the forest. In the distance, there was a sick broadsword, a remnant of a lost civilization, halfway stuck in a boulder calling Gleb’s name. Alongside that was a goblin man eagerly waiting for someone’s arrival. On the ground and in the mountains, Gleb saw impossible materials. Impenetrable ore. Beauty beyond measure. Dragons flew freely in the skies. They flew freely. 

Gleb laid his eyes upon these sights, pathetically flopping about the sandy shore. The sand was coarse, like some brands of Himalayan pink salt, and it clawed and tore at his flesh. By the time Gleb decided with a nasally inner voice that it was time to head back into the ocean, he looked like Prometheus after an eagle was sent to peck out his liver.

The Ghoti Residence – An anemone in the Pacific Ocean

“…And that is the story of Gleb, the heroic clownfish.”

“Can you please tell us another bedtime story, Momma?” asked little Steven. 

“No, it’s time to go to sleep, Steven,” answered Momma Ghoti. 

“That was a stupid story. Everyone knows that Gleb wasn’t real. It’s just a fairy tale,” snarled Steven’s brother Jack. 

Momma Ghoti grew angry, while little Steven gasped. Now distraught, little Steven called for his father, Daddy Ghoti. A sullen, aged parrotfish materialized through the anemone. He had an intelligent demeanor, although there was no hope or ambition left in his eyes. He had heard and been fooled by the same story so many times. Daddy Ghoti comforted little Steven through his first existential crisis, and they fell asleep beside each other. “The Ballad of Gleb” never happened. Really, no fish had ever gone beyond the surface, and lived to tell the tale. There was a period in time when fish were interested in the place between sea and clouds, when Ernest Herringway wrote extensively about it. But it was not their lack of bravery that prevented various fish from reaching beyond; it was the crabs who were mostly to blame. 

Crabs are the guardians of exploration and self-improvement. They are the fun police. The ones who tell you No, that’s a bad idea; or You should not take that risk because you’re just gonna fail. They are also the ones who narc on seaweed dealers at music festivals. In a distant universe, where fish somehow did make it onto land, the earth’s main inhabitants are vile creatures called humans. The one thing humans are good at is keeping crabs in a bucket. You know why? Because whenever one crab tries to escape, all the other crabs would pull the escapee back down with their claws. The humans don’t even have to do anything because the only thing crabs hate more than others is…themselves. Now, the ocean can be thought of as one giant bucket. The crabs are the reason why no fish has ever gone beyond the surface. 

Mundanity

The water is filled with crab-cameras. They are in every road, every corner, every alleyway, and every home. CRABF (Crustaceans Really Against Basic Freedoms) is an organization outside of the government and beyond the police. Their main goal is to prevent any marine life from escaping the ocean. Daddy Ghoti was another nobody stuck in the shrimp-race; he thought deeply and with concerns about CRABF on his way to work. He reasoned that CRABF must have convinced several governments of the benefits of total control, stripping any politician of their humanifish. Benefits that he, along with millions of others, were lied to about: benefits such as “reducing crime rates” and “increasing safety.” Are those really benefits? rang through Daddy Ghoti’s head. There was a splinter in his mind, like a pebble you can’t get out of your shoe. He swam on, careful not to go over the speed limit. If the crab-cameras notice any unpredictable or idiosyncratic behavior, the perpetrator will be taken in for interrogation and then possibly executed. What do you think happened to Ernest Herringway? There are no jails. That was another promise made by governments, another benefit. Yes, it is true that upon partnering with CRABF, jails were abolished around the ocean. Jails are gone. There are no jails. There is little to no crime anywhere. Everyone obeys the law. The absolute law. Don’t even think about courthouses. If you’re innocent, you should have nothing to worry about. Don’t go beyond the surface. Stay in your bubble. Get back in line. There are no more jails. 

A little red dot flashed inside Daddy Ghoti’s head. It was barely visible, perhaps only visible to the surrounding plankton. He thought of his sons–little Steven, and Jack, who was recently arrested for swimming too close to the surface–and his beloved Momma Ghoti, who knows in her heart that the world isn’t right. But she ignores it because it’s uncomfortable, and she has kids to worry about, after all. 

Molecules of water drift aimlessly. For a moment, flowers bloom on the roots of trees, and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. 

He kept on swimming.  

Filed Under: Alternate Realities, Aquatic, Fiction Tagged With: Levi Kassinove, The Little Fish That Never Could

Would YOU eat ethical fish eggs???

April 20, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org Leave a Comment

By Junior Levi Kassinove

Hello. Today I’m going to tell you a little tale about…caviar–otherwise known as the cured eggs of the sturgeon fish. 

Caviar in the 19th Century 

Man devouring 70K worth of caviar in seconds (grubstreet.com) 

Let us travel back to the 1800s, when caviar was eaten by the bowlful by even the poorest of peasants. It was cheap and abundant, like lobster once was, which was fed to prisoners and slaves. During this time, the Russian Empire was the largest exporter of caviar in the world. They were pretty much the only producer (solexcatsmo.com). Then, the rest of Europe and the US started producing caviar. Soon, every American diner was giving caviar away as free appetizers. People were obsessed with it. There was demand, but it was still cheap. Even in the 1970s, caviar was only $60-70  per pound (nytimes.com). Comparatively, the lowest quality caviar is now upwards of $1000 per pound today (bestercaviarstore.com). What REALLY caused the upsurge in price was the immense overfishing of sturgeon. Multiple species of sturgeon declined in population, with the popular beluga sturgeon suffering the worst. It is now listed as a “critically endangered” species by the IUCN. As a result, the illegality of fishing for the beluga sturgeon caused caviar industries to turn to farming, making wild-caught sturgeon extremely valuable. But, we don’t have to kill the sturgeon to enjoy the eggs any more…

How We Can Harvest Caviar Today

Female sturgeon getting an ultrasound (caviarstar.com) 

Whereas the traditional method for extracting caviar involved cutting the fish’s stomach open and ripping its guts out, the stripping method is much more ethical. One method involves simply injecting the sturgeon with a hormone that separates the eggs from their connective tissue, and then massaging the eggs out of the sturgeon a few days later. This method does not kill the fish, and even allows the sturgeon to produce more eggs in the future. An ultrasound is used to determine the optimal time to perform the procedure. By harvesting the caviar without killing the fish, we can slowly repair the damage done to the sturgeon population due to overfishing. (ift.org) 

But How Does It Taste?

Stylish caviar tasting (nailsbyshurik.wordpress.com) 

There is a MASSIVE difference between fake caviar (bowfin fish eggs) and real caviar (sturgeon eggs). Bowfin is a bony fish that yields small, dark, red-tinted roe (caviarstar.com). Bowfin is a cheaper and easier-to-produce alternative to caviar. Even according to the Food and Drug Administration, “real” caviar comes only from sturgeon (ift.org). I’m not gonna talk about the red eggs because that’s not caviar either, although salmon roe is pretty good. A good way to spot the difference between real caviar and bowfin eggs is simply to look at the price. If you see a jar of black “caviar” being sold for $10-15, it’s fake. Bowfin also has much smaller eggs than sturgeon. The bowfin eggs will taste overly salty and fishy, giving you a terribly inaccurate impression of caviar. Real caviar is absolutely delicious. It’s subtle. Sturgeon eggs are creamy, nutty, and only slightly salty. If it tastes fishy, there’s something wrong with it. 

I highly recommend that you all try caviar at least once. And, if you can, make sure that the caviar was ethically produced. As they say in Russia, do svidaniya!

Filed Under: Food, Morality, Op-Ed Tagged With: Levi Kassinove, Would YOU eat ethical fish eggs???

MERCURY SEASPIRACY

March 23, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 2 Comments

By Junior Levi Kassinove

Photo Source: Financial Times

Hey, you. Yeah, you! Put that tuna sandwich down, or tuna sushi, or…whatever you’re eating that includes fish and listen up. There’s an astounding amount of mercury in your seafood. The amount of mercury in bluefin tuna, the fish commonly used in tuna sushi, is around 1 part per million (mercuryfactsandfish.org). To give you an idea of how high that concentration is, the FDA recommends that adults do not eat more than 6-8 ounces of albacore per week. A can of tuna typically holds 3-5 ounces. Albacore, which already contains a relatively high amount of mercury, has 1⁄3 of the mercury concentration of bluefin tuna (edf.org). So, you essentially cannot eat more than ⅓ of a can of bluefin tuna per week. Maybe that isn’t that difficult for you. Maybe you don’t like fish. But, if you often indulge in tuna, you’re probably getting more and more frightened with every line you read. And, I don’t have good news for you. 

Effects of Mercury Poisoning

Let’s say you’re reading this article after you’ve had a nice dinner at a sushi restaurant. You’re not adventurous, so you stayed away from the monkfish liver, the live jumbo shrimp, and the squid balls. You played it safe and went to town on the tuna nigiri. Well, here are the effects of the neurotoxin you just ingested, according to the Environmental Protection Agency. 

-Numb or “pins and needles” sensations
-Cognitive impairment 
-Impairment of speech

-Loss of peripheral vision

-Loss of muscle coordination

-Seizures (my.clevelandclinic.org) 

-Multiple organ failure (ncbi.nlm.nih.gov) 

-Death

How did tuna become infested with so much mercury in the first place? Why is your tuna nigiri laced with thermometer juice? The answer lies in the food chain. There is a low level of mercury present in our waters, so many microorganisms contain a small amount of it. The bluefin tuna, being a large fish, is far up on the food chain. A small fish eats tons of microorganisms, gaining their mercury. A larger fish eats many of those small fish, and the level of mercury grows exponentially as you go farther up the food chain. This is why sharks contain the highest concentration of mercury out of all seafood (sharkconservation.org.au). 

The Takeaway

The pescatarians are obviously trying to kill us all! Eat more steak. Eat more plants. But, as we say in Wagyuland, fish is best eaten in moderation. 

Filed Under: Food, Health and Disease, Science Tagged With: Levi Kassinove, Mercury Seaspiracy

Can you eat Foie Gras guilt free?

March 14, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org Leave a Comment

We said, “Write about the implications of grass.” Levi, as always, went in a surprising direction: foie gras. (Note: “gras” does NOT mean grass, but “fat.”) Foie gras is a highly contentious cuisine. Levi thinks he’s found a guilt-free way of tasting the delicacy.

By Junior Levi Kassinove

Have you heard of foie gras? “Foie gras” is French for fatty liver. If you’ve heard of it but don’t like it because it’s unethically produced, then I have good news for you. There exists ethical foie gras, where the geese frolic about a pasture eating acorns, olives, and grass. If you don’t know what foie gras is, then why are you even here?

Foie gras is fattened goose (or rarely, duck) liver. Typically, it is produced year-round in factories by shoving metal tubes down the throats of geese and force feeding them (sentientmedia.org). And, they are forbidden from exercising. This force feeding of stationary geese can fatten the liver to 10 times its normal volume (npr.org). If you read my wagyu article, you’d know that the more fat involved, the better flavor and texture. Unsurprisingly, because of the name, this is a product of France. However, in Spain there exists two men by the names of Eduardo Sousa and Diego Labourdette who have a farm that produces foie gras…ethically (npr.org). 

Geese wandering around the farm outside of Pallares, Spain (npr.org). 

How do they do it?

As I said earlier, these geese are not force fed. They roam free, eating–of their own free will–olives, acorns and whatever else they desire. Naturally, the geese fatten themselves up during the beginning of the winter to prepare for their annual Southward migration (a-z-animals.com). We all know, though, that the geese will not be making their Southward migration. They will instead be “sacrificed” on a “night of the new moon” when their livers are the fattest (Eduardo Sousa, npr.org). In an interview with NPR, Sousa revealed that before they kill the geese, they “paralyze them with flashlights.” After the geese are hypnotized, they are swiftly and painlessly killed with a knife. The rest of the goose is used for various other products such as meals of duck leg and duck breast (npr.org). 

What does this ethically-raised foie gras taste like?

Usually, foie gras barely tastes like liver because it is so fatty, but this liver tastes like liver. While I cannot personally vouch for its flavor, James Beard award-winning chef Dan Barber said it was “the best foie gras of my life” (npr.org). Taking on the flavors of what they eat, the foie gras would probably have a deep, earthly flavor with notes of acorns, olives, and whatever else the geese choose to eat. 

How to buy it?

Because only a handful of geese are slaughtered every year, Sousa’s foie gras is extremely difficult to obtain. You can find the foie gras on their website (lapateria.eu/) for €200 per 180g. It is currently sold out, but I will try to get my hands on it and report back this winter!

Filed Under: Food, The Outdoors Tagged With: Can you eat Foie Gras guilt free?, Levi Kassinove

What’s Love?

March 7, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 2 Comments

I was in my writing group. And, we fell to defining love.

As long as we’ve had language, we’ve been trying to put “love” into words–and often failing. But, we know instinctively when we get it right. My fellow writers turned to the sages and dramatists and poets of time for definitions of “love.” I turned to my own sages–the Blog Staff. 

The following is junior Levi Kassinove’s reply.

— Blog Advisor Zachik

When the stars darken,
Few remaining question,
If what they see is what it is,
And if what it is is really what it’s supposed to be.
When all is assimilated,
Ideas are never braved,
Except by love. 
It is the anchor to the ship,
To keep the ship from floating away,
To madness and wrongness. 
It is the connection to all that’s compassionate
But a connection at most
For nothing is the same
But everything is okay

Levi Kassinove

Filed Under: Love, Poetry Tagged With: Levi Kassinove, What's Love?

The Escape Artist Hamster

February 28, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org Leave a Comment

By Junior Levi Kassinove

Meet Potter, formerly of the Kassinove household. Below is his story of escape as told by Potter himself.

Note: This story is loosely based on real events in my life. All methods of escape were really executed by my hamster 10 years ago. 

1200 Hours

Although I do not know my birth name, the name given to me by the curly-haired human is Potter. For posterity, I am currently typing this via a nanoscale jerry-rigged Raspberry Pi that I smuggled inside of my cheeks on my way out of PetSmart, along with a tiny monitor and keyboard, of course. Either my cheeks are THAT big, or I’ve essentially made a quantum computer, hehe. Anyway, I need to get out of here. This cage is insulting…to my intelligence. I used the human to get out of PetSmart, which was the first step in my plan to gain total freedom. Now, I just need to escape this hippo’s house. Man, I feel like Jack from Jack and the Beanstalk. In other words, me small: curly-haired human big like whale. I’ll be right back; Fee Fi Foh Fum is coming. 

Update 1: 1220 Hours 

Eughgh, what does he think I am? A stress ball? Oh, I didn’t mean to write that. I have to find a way to turn off speech to text, or maybe I should just stop talking to myself. Whatever, it helps me keep my head clear. I’m going to need a clear head if I want to escape this godforsaken place. My cage has about the same area as a 2×1 square if measured in bananas. The dogs are always barking at the wind, and the house smells…unnatural. I want to know what the Earth smells like, and how it feels to walk on its dirt. I will wait until nightfall to execute my escape plan. This cage doesn’t even have a lock; it’s just a door on the roof. I bet I can pop it open with brute force… 

Update 2: 2300 Hours

Unfortunately, eyesight is not one of my redeeming qualities. After wandering aimlessly around the house for a while, I started to worry that I may eventually bump into one of the dogs. So, I am currently hiding camping out in a closet for the night. I did memorize the location of several windows, however, and so I will make my great escape tomorrow night. I had also planned for this eventuality. Before I left, I stored some bedding in my cheeks to sleep on. 

Update 3: 0100 Hours (Next Day)

They found me. Those porpoises laughed at me for 5 whole minutes before returning me to my cage. This time, they taped the roof shut. Luckily there’s a circular backdoor used to attach those spine-deforming overpriced tubes to “keep us entertained.” All I have to do is twist off the cap…

Update 4: 0500 Hours

At this time of day, the house is somewhat illuminated, but the giant sloths are still asleep. It should be the perfect time to escape; however, cheekiness has taken over me. On my way out, I was struck by a conviction. I should scare the humans as a parting gift. And so, that is how I ended up spending the better part of an hour resting on top of the curly-haired human’s brother’s head. I am currently waiting for him to wake up. Muahahahhaha

Update 5: 1300 Hours

Although my back may be bruised after being flung against a wall, hearing the screams of the blonde gorilla was totally worth it. But, now, I am in a bit of a pickle. Instead of buying me a new cage with a lock, which I could easily escape from, those penny-pinchers just taped the backdoor shut. I am left with no choice but to use my ultimate weapon…

Update 6: Who cares about human time? I’m free!

I don’t know the point of labeling tape “biodegradable” if it can’t be safely eaten by a hamster. I feel like I poisoned myself. No matter, I can finally see the moon. And soon, I will see the sun. But…this place…it’s suburban. I still have a long way to go before I can find a decent forest or mountain or whatever my natural habitat is. Until then, this is Potter signing off. 

This may or may not be the last known photo of Potter (https://petcareeducation.com/black-bear-hamsters/).

Filed Under: Animals, Fiction Tagged With: Levi Kassinove, The Escape Artist Hamster

The Best Coffee I’ve Ever Had

January 26, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 1 Comment

A Sonnet Ode by poet Levi Kassinove

Ere the morning fog vanished,

By the hand of the golden sun,

Which rises betwixt London clouds,

Amber divinity, I was fated to meet.

Awoken by wanderlust, at 10 a.m.,

I trekked through blighted streets,

Gazing with ardent curiosity,

At the aquaponic garden surrounded by glass. 

When my shackled palette, 

Consanguineous with fog,

Entered its welkin doors ensconced in light,

Mine eyes fell upon machinery old and new. 

T’was a Japanese iced o’ th’ Panama geisha stripe,

The amber sun unshackl’d my tongue. 

Photo Source: handground.com

For context: When I was in London, I had a Japanese-style iced coffee, made with Panama Geisha beans. Japanese-style iced coffee is when the barista pours the coffee directly over the ice as part of its mass, as opposed to the ice being added afterwards with no regard for the proportion between water and coffee. Geisha is a highly prized strain of coffee bean, and this particular variety was grown in Panama.

Filed Under: Food, Poetry, The World Tagged With: Levi Kassinove, The Best Coffee I've Ever Had

Why I Hate The Color Yellow

January 18, 2023 by szachik@pvs.org 3 Comments

By Junior Levi Kassinove

Middle-School Blogger Penny proposed we write about the color yellow. The Blog Staff accepted her challenge and came up with some surprising associations. Levi’s reaction went more in the direction of . . . yellow journalism.

CONTENT WARNING: I will trash on your favorite color if your favorite color is yellow.

Before I get into all of my reasons for hating the color yellow, let me just back up my opinion with cold, hard science. According to apartmenttherapy.com, yellow is the favorite color of a wee 5% of the people. Perhaps this means that I’m preaching to the choir. I imagine, however, 95% of people who don’t love yellow don’t completely detest yellow like I do. So, here are my top three reasons for hating the color yellow.

  1. It’s the Symbol of Death and Decay

Head over to the cemetery and dig up your favorite grave. Open up the casket, and you’ll find a yellow corpse. Not a red corpse, not a green corpse, but a pale yellow corpse. When one has jaundice, one’s skin turns yellow. When one does not brush one’s teeth, one’s teeth turn yellow. When the yellow sun attacks people during the daytime, it can give them skin cancer, or worse, a farmer’s tan. Yellow is also the color of vomit. In general, yellow just radiates disease and rot. Some negative symbols with the color yellow include but are not limited to the radioactive symbol, wet floor signs, and general cautionary signs. 

(stiglersupply.com) 
  1. Yellow is a Negative Motif in Literature

In Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, there is a yellow book that Lord Henry gives to Dorian, which, upon reading, throws Dorian down a spiral of self-hatred and guiltless crimes. In Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, the monster that Victor creates is described as having yellow skin and yellow eyes. In a short story by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, titled The Yellow Wallpaper, a woman suffering a temporary psychosis hallucinates a woman being trapped behind snaking bars as she stares at her room’s yellow wallpaper. Finally, in Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, yellow is the color of Raskolnikov’s apartment walls, representing his impoverished state. No, I am not just listing off books from my English class. 

(blogs.sjsu.edu) 
  1. It’s just straight up the worst color

When you see someone walking down the street, are they wearing yellow? 99% of the time, the answer is no. They are wearing jeans and a white t-shirt because they don’t want to look like they’re cosplaying as Morty Smith. Compare that to colors like blue and beige–the colors that look good in the world, and you’ll see that yellow has no place amongst these aesthetic giants. The sun is pretty, you say? Have you ever looked at it for more than three seconds? I didn’t think so. Yellow is a symbol of prosperity? It’s also what color your walls turn into when you smoke too often. I wouldn’t exactly call that a sign of prosperity. 

Morty from the show Rick and Morty (usatoday.com) 

From cancer-causing rays of sun to depictions of alcoholics in literature (Dostoevsky’s Marmeladov), yellow connotes the worst of the worst. It invokes a visceral reaction from me and many of my peers and teachers. Louisa said yellow makes her think of “thrown-up hot dogs.” Mr. Satterfield eloquently commented, “Yellow is the color of lukewarm indecision and treachery achieved by laziness.” Indy concluded that the color “reminds me of urine.”

Filed Under: Aesthetic, Op-Ed Tagged With: Levi Kassinove, Why I Hate The Color Yellow

How to Make Tamales

December 29, 2022 by szachik@pvs.org 1 Comment

We wanted to squeeze in one more Levi post before the year ends and December–Tamale-making season–passes. Happy New Year!

By Junior Levi Kassinove

My family’s annual tamale-making party, where we are making pork tamales.

If you haven’t had a tamale before, I’m sorry. They are more than delicious; they are divine. It is a one of a kind texture, with a flavorful inside. They can be dinner and dessert. The ingredients that go into tamales are no less than the elements of life itself, such as meat, vegetables, and cheese. If you want to try a tamale, wait until December to ask your Mexican friend if you can tag along with them to their family’s annual tamale-making party. I guarantee you they will happily accept. Or, wait until next year’s Tamale Festival in November, which is also where fellow blogger and food-lover Luke Sonderman saved a turtle. Full disclosure, tamales and turtles are COMPLETELY unrelated.

What is it and how are they made?

Tamales are basically pockets of masa–that can be filled with absolutely anything–wrapped in a corn husk. But, before we can get into the different types of tamales and how they are made, we need to understand what masa actually is. Masa is corn that has gone through a process called nixtamalization, which is a chemical process that involves soaking and cooking corn in an alkaline solution. In 1000 BCE, when we didn’t know what chemistry was, it is estimated that people in Mesoamerica put chunks of limestone in boiling water to make the alkaline solution. It is not known what originally drove people to put limestone in water to boil corn, but it works…Okay, I’ll say what we are all thinking. It was divine intervention. 

Masa being spread across a corn husk (muydelish.com)

After the masa is made, it is spread on a corn husk as seen in the picture. From there, one can put anything they want on the masa. If it’s a savory tamale, the most common things to put on it are shredded pork with a red chile sauce (my personal favorite), chicken, or cheese and peppers. If it’s sweet, some common tamales I’ve seen are mango, strawberry, and blueberry. I have never seen a chocolate tamale before. Usually, a dessert tamale is just a tamale with fruit. 

Strawberry tamale (dorastable.com) 

After the toppings are put on, the corn husk is wrapped to create a sort of rectangular burrito. It is then steamed until the masa is solid yet soft so that it holds shape, as seen with the strawberry tamale. The texture of masa is hard to describe; you’ll have to experience it for yourself. It is light and airy, but with much more flavor than a typical tortilla. Also, masa can be added to a sort of hot chocolate along with brown sugar to make champurrado, a drink fit for the winter. In conclusion, you gotta try it. 

Filed Under: Culture, Food, Seasonal Holidays Tagged With: How to Make Tamales, Levi Kassinove

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