meansoybean

Like the rest of the most of you (wage slaves), Angry Norwegian spends at least a third of his time on this earth subjugated to a faceless corporation. The particular organisation I am referring to here expends much effort to project a fluffy, inoffensive image that no one could object to. The company’s cheapness is never allowed to stand in the way of its desire to show us how much it loves us.

Anyway, at this year’s End-of-year celebration, we were treated to a SURPRISE clearly intended to blow us away with its witty originality and off-the-cuff luxury. As a white tablecloth was pulled off the pile of neat little packages stacked in the centre of the room, the emcee proudly revealed that we would each be treated to .. a two-gigabyte iPod Shuffle!!

* * *

Yes, gentle reader, you have guessed correctly: the above exclamation marks were meant to convey sarcasm, not excitement. This chiseled Nordic brute has never assented to the sinister touch of Apple Corporation, resolutely shunning Apple products from an early age.

That’s right, I’m a Heretic Unbeliever. The whole Apple thing has always seemed like a desperate cult to me, its followers seeking safety and consolation in a polished, dumbed-down, single-mouse-buttoned, make-believe world. The unbearable proselytizers — from the gullible fanboy to the pompous professional — chant its paeans cluelessly from every pulpit. But the bland, shiny comforts of the Mac universe come at a price: severe vendor lock-in, proprietary, overpriced hardware, and insulting “anti-piracy” restrictions built-in wherever possible.

What ho?! You weren’t thinking I’m a [shudder] WINDOWS user, were you? It should go without saying, but for the record, I would never demean myself in such a .. foul .. manner.

Nay. For as long as I care to remember, my ship has sailed the lawless waters of the Linux Ocean. And as I angrily smash the keys on my sturdy Ubuntu 9.10 workstation — forging this masterpiece from a glowing slab, as it were — I am reminded that free & open source software has come a long way. Anyway, that’s a subject for another angry rant.

* * *

Suffice it to say my feelings regarding the company’s generous gift were mixed. Curiosity won out in the end, and I gingerly tore the seal on the packaging upon my return from the corporate-sponsored bacchanalia. I mean, at least I didn’t have to pay for it, right? And I could use some sort of portable radiola to distract myself with during my infrequent attempts at exercise.

Five minutes of frustrated fumbling later I was left with a pile of shiny clear plastic trash, the signature tacky proprietary earphones, and a tiny monolith of metal about half the size of my trusty Zippo lighter (now there’s an interface that works).

A small USB adaptor rose temptingly from the mess of cable, so I eagerly jammed it into my machine, and mated the iPod to the dangling bit at the other end. If you find the imagery disturbing, it is entirely appropriate: this was my computer’s first encounter with Apple hardware, and like many such encounters, it would only result in trauma and regret.

As I soon found out, no amount of trickery could bring the iPod under my control. The computer could ’see’ the device, and even mount its contents as a virtual drive; but copying files to the drive didn’t produce any useful result. I detached the iPod from the computer, and plugged in the earphones, only to hear a robotic voice remind me that the device must be synched through Apple’s all-purpose overseer: iTunes.

I attempted the connection again, this time trying out the fancier open-source media players (Amarok, Rhythmbox, Banshee), and even a specialized tool I had to download on the fly. Nothing worked. A glance at the specs of the device revealed that it was a “3rd generation” Shuffle, but revised in “late 2009″. I suppose it would make sense if Apple refined its devices’ sneaky cockblocking mechanisms with every iteration, as earlier versions of the Shuffle are apparently accessible to more recent Linux apps.

Alas, none of my underhanded Heretic shenanigans managed to unlock the device. I tried a Python script that tricks the Shuffle into thinking files were actually imported via iTunes. The stowaway tunes wouldn’t play. As a last resort, I even tried to set up a fake-o Windows XP installation using virtualization software in the hope of installing iTunes there and finally liberating my music — only to find out that the free version of VirtualBox is unable to deal with hosted USB devices…

* * *

No one can call me unreasonable. I was willing to overlook the Shuffle’s many flaws (dinky controls, tinny sound) as well as the obnoxious branding. I tried to strike a compromise. But in the end, I’ve wasted some four hours of my precious, precious weekend, only to wind up with a device I can’t use because I have too much self-respect to run Windows or Mac OS X.
So in closing, screw Apple.

Until next time — stay angry.

Take, say, bananas.

Bananas have attained mainstay status in our society. Our grocery stores present them as almost a basic staple. They are even made affordable — to most, anyway.

Thing is, we seem to have forgotten that bananas are, like, totally alien to our northern climes; an exotic item. Indeed, they are the fruit of a whole industry with a less than palatable background.

Sure, you could try organic bananas for thrice the price, if that helps you get through the night. Sadly, there’s no globally recognized certification for organic labeling, and in the end you end up having to trust Dole (or some other “legitimate business” of dubious legitimacy).

Then there’s also “fair trade”, though that doesn’t mean your bananas will be free of pesticides. Whichever path you choose, you’re still eating something that had to travel halfway across the world and appears fundamentally unsustainable given the hidden energy costs.

To eat locally and sustainably means letting go of such crazy — yet seemingly normal in today’s economy — imports. Like coconut milk, avocados and olives, to name a few. Think back to your grandparents’ time, when getting an orange at Christmas was enough to get your sock garters in a knot from excitement. Like, something special.

I’m not saying that importing anything from far away is wrong, but I do believe a true “staple” should be locally produced. We can’t let the hubris of globalization reach a point where we depend on food imports for our basic needs.

Now, if you’re going to import something, it should be produced by people who get fair compensation for their — in the case of bananas, backbreaking — work.

Anyway, as you might’ve guessed, this Norwegian has purchased nary a banana for some time now.

He’s also been anxiously — and ANGRRRILY — looking forward to a doc called BANANAS!*, which will finally be playing in Montreal as part of the Rencontres internationales du documentaire festival, on November 17^th and 20^th.
Check it out!

I visited with some acquaintances yesterday, an elderly professor and her daughter, both of whom I had not seen in over a decade. Due to the social distance involved, I did not want to make a fuss about my veganism in advance. But after a half-hour of ‘catching up’ in the sitting room, it was time to move to the dinner table; and time for that dreaded moment where I would be forced to admit to my nutritional perversion.

Being in polite company, the hosts took in the news without flinching. The usual queries followed thereupon (no butter, huh? ..and no eggs, either?), and I did my best to respond simply and without pretension. Past interactions of this nature have taught me to tread carefully when explaining my dietary choices to avowed carnivores. I have encountered a whole spectrum of reactions, ranging from veiled hostility to bitter defensiveness.

This time around was a new one, though: after some fashionable references to nutritional fads in the news, one of the hosts asked me point blank whether I would feed my babies a vegan diet, too.

Now, bear in mind that although I’m a svelte, virile, heterosexual in a committed relationship, I don’t have any babies — as of yet — and no plans to acquire said babies in any imaginable term.

But there was no time for such considerations, as the question was merely rhetorical, a lead-in for the real query: had I heard about “those two people who starved their baby in Florida”?

I had indeed heard something about a case like this, but lacking the relevant details, and not wanting to upset my hosts further, decided to plead ignorance and broached a new subject to dislodge the uncomfortable silence. Noblesse oblige — I had expected this sort of unpleasantness from the outset and somehow managed to repress my rage at the time — but today the incident bothers me.

* * *

It turns out there’s been a whole “vegan baby-killer” meme going around over the past few years. The media were quite pleased to blow the stories way out of proportion, and the blogospheric echo chamber strove to keep up, so many references abound.

Now, granted, a small percentage of any constituency is bound to fuck up in life, and vegan parents are surely no exception. The two cases that appear to have been at the source of the meme are muddled at best, and I wouldn’t comment on them anyway without further research. Much has been spewed about the subject already.

I’ve gotten accustomed to being questioned in detail about my lifestyle almost every time I meet someone new (unless they’re cool, which is a rare occurrence). But with this kind of b.s. clearly making its imprint on the average person, I can only imagine how difficult it must be for the majority-responsible vegan parents out there, especially as health-related reasoning is partly what led me to veganism in the first place (ultimate sustainability being numero uno on this Norwegian’s grand list of priorities).

Well, until next time — stay angry.