A few days ago, I got sucked into a weird vortex of a YouTube category. I watched ONE (1) video about climbing Mt Everest, and then of course the algorithm started feeding me more and more Everest videos, specifically Everest Disaster videos, and wouldn’t stop. I’m currently going cold turkey on anything about mountain climbing, rejecting every video the system offers me, to try and break the cycle. I’ll probably be offered videos about Everest until I’m 900 years old.

But I did learn a few things, and one of the reasons I kept watching them was a sense of horror. Sure, there were skilled mountaineers who trained and trained and brought deep physical and mental abilities to the mountain, and I have to respect that. Everest has become a carnival attraction for “influencers” and business people who just want the glory of being able to say they climbed the tallest mountain. They spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to book sherpas to lead them on a grueling march, and to probably carry them to the top and back down again, all so they can gloat on Instagram.

And many of them die for this dubious distinction.

Three out of every 10 expeditions to Annapurna result in a casualty. That rate is slightly lower for Kangchenjunga (29.1%) and lower still for K2 (22.9%). Everest only comes in at sixth place, with a casualty rate of 14.1%.

Of course, that rate is so much lower because so many more people are tempted to climb Everest. Each one, no doubt, a highly motivated individual.

They’re dying, and for what? There are lines, as if this is a Disneyland ride. They stack up on guide ropes, planted by the long-suffering sherpas, and may have to stand and shuffle for hours as the mob is led up, one by one, to the summit. It’s insane.

The whole thing is an extreme test of physiological endurance…and money. They climb above the “death zone,” so called because no human being can survive at such low oxygen concentrations for long. You enter the “death zone,” and you start inevitably dying slowly (or quickly), and what you have to do is get to the summit and down as rapidly as you can, so you can get back down to the altitude where the atmospheric pressure is high enough that your body can repair itself after its exposure to lethal deficiencies of air. Did I already say it’s insane? It’s madness.

People die in this vain endeavor, and their bodies get left on the mountain.

Some of the frozen, dessicated bodies are used as landmarks.

Green Boots, arguably the most famous body on Everest, has been identified as Tsewang Paljor, Head Constable of the Indo-Tibetan Border Police (ITBP), though some think it might be his colleague, Lance Naik (i.e. Lance Corporal) Dorje Morup. Both were members of a three-man ITBP climbing party that perished in the infamous blizzard of May 1996, which also took the lives of five other mountaineers.
…
Some bodies are known landmarks, as Green Boots used to be: “The German” on the second step of the north face route, the “Saluting Man” near the south summit, the “Icefall Body”, in the Khumbu glacier field, and “Sleeping Beauty” on the southeast ridge, until she too was removed from view in 2007.

What a fate. And it’s all in service to a lethal tourism industry, where people are killing themselves to expose themselves to a physical challenge. I’m sorry, but if you tell me you climbed Everest, I’m not going to be impressed — I might just feel pity for your deluded ambitions.

One of the consequences of this wasteful enterprise is a mountain littered with dead bodies, ropes, colorful nylon tents, and stacks of empty oxygen bottles. More people are willing to risk their lives for a photo op than are willing to risk their lives to clean up the horrible mess of debris they leave behind.

That did get me wondering, though. Ötzi was a wonderful discovery of a 5,000 year old corpse of a Copper Age man, with artifacts of his time, that has stirred up a lot of curiosity about what he was doing in the Alps, how he died, how was all his gear used. Why was he climbing those mountains? I’m wondering how future anthropologists in 7000 CE would feel on discovering this treasure trove of a 21st century high-altitude garbage dump/graveyard, and what questions they might ask. Why were all these people in bright nylon clothing up there at 6-8000 meters anyway?

I’d just say they were glory-seeking idiots.

Every time he brags about passing a basic cognitive test — as he does so painfully often — this is how I feel.

The man whose brain barely functions is in charge of all the science enterprises in this country, and he is fucking it up so bad.

Oh no. I have been asked for dietary advice.

I am not qualified. I’ve never taken a nutrition course, I have no degree in the field, you should not take nutrition advice from me. That’s the simple answer.

On the other hand, I’m aware of the problem: there are unholy swarms of people and ‘influencers’ who have less knowledge of basic biology than I do who are flooding the zone with all kinds of cockamamie ideas based primarily on ideology. Sometimes the people who pretend to have the most knowledge about the human body give the very worst advice, so how do you figure out what is good advice? I mean, you’ve got total wackaloons who have driven themselves into induced comas and neurotic breakdowns telling you to eat nothing but beef; you’ve got other nerds insisting that everyone must avoid meat, eggs, and gluten (which is necessary for some people); and then you’ve got breatharians and other insane people who believe in living on diet Coke and Big Macs.

On the third hand, human beings have survived for hundreds of thousands of years without TikTok, eating what was available and tasted good, and cultivating wonderful cuisines without relying on bizarre notions of what some wild-eyed skinny fanatic said. That’s the thing about nutrition: traditions are good guides because they’re the product of people who survived their diet. OK, French sauces and hakarl might be extreme and bad for you in the long run, but human experimentation also gave us curries and bread. We haven’t died of anything like that unless consumed in excess.

My general guide to eating is simple: moderation in everything. Avoid heavily processed foods. Try a variety of things, a ‘balanced’ diet. Beans, rice, and potatoes can be the solid foundation for your diet, and have the additional virtue in these tight economic times of being cheap. Build on them with spices — I feel like one of the cardinal sins of the American diet is the spice deficiency. Spices make mundane, boring, but reliable staples interesting and allow you to get flavor without feeling like you have to indulge in buying exotic, expensive, heavily processed foods.

Add stuff you can find in season. I like to add a piece of fish to a meal for a bit of richness…or use an egg, or some broccoli, or a side of peas. Avoid uniformity.

Learn how to make a paella, or a curry, or a stew. Just the process of assembling all the elements of these kinds of foods guarantees that you’ll get a dietary variety, and it will taste good. I trust tradition far more than I do the latest influencer fad. Your best bet is to ignore people like me and just spend more time in the produce section of your grocery store, gathering up tomatoes and turnips and cabbage and mushrooms and carrots and peppers and onions and cauliflower and green beans and garlic, and then figure out how to cook them and make a delicious meal. Pick up a variety of fruits for dessert.

It takes a bit more effort than picking up a box of premade something-or-other, but it would be better for you.

I’ve been bookmaxxing for decades.

I’ve taken up spidermaxxing lately.

Follow me for more breaking updates on future trends!

By way of today’s Oglaf:

I thought, no way, that isn’t in the Bible. But it is! It’s all wrapped in prudish anti-sex nonsense, but if you just read Proverbs 7:10-20, it’s kind of a hot porn story. Unfortunately, it turns into a kind of horror story after Proverbs 7:21. The narrator is a sour old killjoy.

7 My son, keep my words
and store up my commands within you.
2 Keep my commands and you will live;
guard my teachings as the apple of your eye.
3 Bind them on your fingers;
write them on the tablet of your heart.
4 Say to wisdom, “You are my sister,”
and to insight, “You are my relative.”
5 They will keep you from the adulterous woman,
from the wayward woman with her seductive words.

6 At the window of my house
I looked down through the lattice.
7 I saw among the simple,
I noticed among the young men,
a youth who had no sense.
8 He was going down the street near her corner,
walking along in the direction of her house
9 at twilight, as the day was fading,
as the dark of night set in.

10 Then out came a woman to meet him,
dressed like a prostitute and with crafty intent.
11 (She is unruly and defiant,
her feet never stay at home;
12 now in the street, now in the squares,
at every corner she lurks.)
13 She took hold of him and kissed him
and with a brazen face she said:

14 “Today I fulfilled my vows,
and I have food from my fellowship offering at home.
15 So I came out to meet you;
I looked for you and have found you!
16 I have covered my bed
with colored linens from Egypt.
17 I have perfumed my bed
with myrrh, aloes and cinnamon.
18 Come, let’s drink deeply of love till morning;
let’s enjoy ourselves with love!
19 My husband is not at home;
he has gone on a long journey.
20 He took his purse filled with money
and will not be home till full moon.”

21 With persuasive words she led him astray;
she seduced him with her smooth talk.
22 All at once he followed her
like an ox going to the slaughter,
like a deer[a] stepping into a noose[b]
23 till an arrow pierces his liver,
like a bird darting into a snare,
little knowing it will cost him his life.

24 Now then, my sons, listen to me;
pay attention to what I say.
25 Do not let your heart turn to her ways
or stray into her paths.
26 Many are the victims she has brought down;
her slain are a mighty throng.
27 Her house is a highway to the grave,
leading down to the chambers of death.

Other than the grim ending, that sounds like a very good outline for a porn video. Thanks, Bible!

Now I’m wondering if perfuming the sheets with a hint of cinnamon wouldn’t be a bad idea.

I had to address my friends: don’t pity me for my bad design. I’ll get better.

A few weeks ago, I saw a movie called Normal. It was a violent shoot-em-up set in a small Minnesota town named Normal, starring Bob Odenkirk as the new sheriff. I guess his new standard role is as a more humorous, laid-back John Wick. Anyway, the premise of the movie, which was rather unbelievable, is that this town was a quiet, secret storage place for vast sums of yakuza money. Ha ha, very likely. The new sheriff discovers the hoard of cash and gold, and hijinks ensue, hijinks that involve the citizens of the town shooting and blowing things up to protect their lucrative local industry.

It was entertaining, but not great, and nothing like the small town Minnesota I see. Except…

Today I went downtown to pay my home insurance bill at a local bank. This bank has always felt weird to me — there are never any clients inside, it’s got these gigantic high ceilings and very classy decor, and I only ever see one or two tellers at “work,” that is, doing nothing but sitting at their desks looking bored. Suddenly, the idea that this bank could be a front for yakuza treasure seemed a little more probable.

Then I discovered that the bill I was paying was not for 6 months coverage, but for one month. Eeep. This was way too high for me, or for most people in this little town, so now I’m thinking that the idea that we’re under the yakuza seems much more plausible.

Bob Odenkirk, come save us!

Found on Bluesky:

Likewise, my first thought was to press the blue button. But then I thought that that would just give all the red button people what they wanted, and I’d end up dead while they could take all my stuff. But then I thought again, would I want to live in a world full of murderous bastards? And I was back to pushing the blue button.

You could cycle around and around this dilemma all day long. Entertaining, but I have better things to do.

This does have evolutionary implications. We don’t have buttons with global effects, but throughout our history we’ve had people meeting and having to choose between cooperating and expediently executing those who oppose us. I think in the long run, cooperation wins, but the problem with this thought experiment is that it compresses a billion incremental decisions into one final, immediate commitment, and that isn’t at all realistic.