And a loser.
Philip Nobel
We have a winner.
Double Bypass Burger
A burger topped with five slices of bacon, four slices of cheese, two fried eggs, mayo, lettuce, tomato, and onion between two grilled cheese sandwiches.
(Submitted by Kyle Korchran via thevortexbarandgrill)
Tempura Bacon
Bacon strips battered in Panko bread crumbs then deep fried and served with soy sauce.
(Submitted by Vash via flickr)
Tangled Desires
It can be confusing when narratrix and thisiswhyyourefat alternate on my dashboard.
“ Revenge doesn’t exist for no reason. That desire humans feel is very much mirrored in the animal kingdom. You can come up with examples of chimpanzees that will go out of their way to harm another individual who has benefited from ill-gotten gains. You see this in birds—one of my favorite examples, and to me this is just an eye-opening example—there is a bird called the brown headed cowbird, and it’s a brood parasite. It lays its eggs in the nests of other birds—wrens or something, like a cuckoo. His host birds incubate that egg for thirty, thirty-five, days along with their own eggs and then the cowbird has offspring that it didn’t have to go through the metabolic trouble of having to sit on. So some biologists were wondering: what is the behavioral process that allows this to persist? Because if you’re that host, if you’re that wren that’s going to have to sit on this egg for thirty-five days, evolution is going to put a cost on you for that. That’s energy—that’s heat—that you could be devoting to your own eggs that you’re having to siphon off to this other third egg. So where is the gain coming that offsets that cost? Why don’t the wrens just rebel? So what they did—this is amazing every time I think about it—these scientists systematically went to a research site and ejected the cowbird eggs from half of these hosts’ nests. So, what happens if the host kicks the egg out, just pushes it out of the nest? Turns out the cowbird will come back and destroy the entire nest. So it looks like evolution has put into these two species—has worked with these two species—to create a contract, kind of a protection racket, really, where these two species have agreed that, “I will absorb this cost of rearing you egg so I avoid the cost of you coming along and fouling my nest, so I don’t have any offspring this season.” And [Robert] Trivers, the evolutionary biologist, when he developed his theory of reciprocal altruism back in the late 60s and early 70s, he pointed out that there was no reason you couldn’t get these kinds of co-evolutionary dynamics between two species. You don’t even need to work with the same kind of neural tissue, you can work with two different kinds of minds and over the course of natural selection, produce these really interesting patterns of harm and revenge which lead to a stable behavioral structure. That example to me gets to the heart of vengeance. Vengeance is produced by mental hardware that was designed by evolution to solve the problem of deterrence. That’s the ultimate bottom line of revenge: it deters harm. At least it’s produced by a mechanism that was designed to deter harm.
Michael McCullough, professor of psychology at the University of Miami (via narratrix)
Last hill of a long night. The Jersey Jumpoff reaches Hoboken at dawn.
