All posts by Victor Tan Chen

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen
 

Hershey’s not-so-pure chocolate

Pringles are not potatoes. And now Hershey's Kissables are no longer "candy coated milk chocolate," but "chocolate candy."

Pringles are not potatoes. And now Hershey's Kissables are no longer "candy coated milk chocolate," but "chocolate candy."

From the Candy Blog [via Consumerist]:

The new version is called Chocolate Candy which is code for chocolate-flavored confection, or candy that contains chocolate but can’t be called chocolate because it has other stuff in it that’s not permitted by the FDA definitions (like more oil than actual chocolate).

That's not the only Hershey's chocolate whose chocolate has been diluted, apparently:

It strikes me as odd that Hershey’s new Pure Chocolate campaign comes on the heels of their attempts to dilute the definition of chocolate and have changed the formulation on many of their favorite candies (5th Avenue & Whatchamacallit) to include new coatings that are not pure chocolate any longer.  

What's next? Non-corn Corn Flakes? Non-wheat Wheat Thins? Non-cheese Cheese Whiz? (Okay, maybe you already have your doubts about that last one.)

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Another dream team

A Hollywood ending in yesterday's team finals in men's gymnastics, and a racist beginning for Spain's basketball team. 

Talk about a Hollywood ending in yesterday's team finals in men's gymnastics at the Beijing Olympics. You had a Chinese team avenging with extreme prejudice the drubbing it had received in the 2004 Athens Games. You had a Japanese team that faltered horrifically, only to pull the silver from the jaws of defeat. And you had an American team that, with the loss of two star gymnasts to injuries, was counted out of medal contention by many observers, only to snag the bronze. (Here's the video of the finals, and here are some pics.)

This U.S. team truly showed America as its best: diverse, full of spirit and camaraderie, underdogs dreaming big. Kevin Tan, the son of Chinese-born immigrants, now representing America at Beijing. Joe Hagerty, whose father Mike was watching from the stands at Beijing in halo, still recovering from a serious car accident. Raj Bhavsar, an alternate in 2004 and again this Olympics, only to step in after Paul Hamm's injury to become one of the team's most consistent performers.

And Alexander Artemev, the son of an Russian gold medalist, who was originally selected as an alternate because he was thought to be too erratic to depend on. Artemev had a chance to redeem himself with the team's very last performance of the day, and he did so with a jaw-dropping turn on the pommel house, successfully fending off a last-minute challenge from Germany for the bronze.

If this American team has embodied the spirit of the Games, Spain's basketball team has shown its opposite. In this full-page, pre-Olympics ad in the country's largest newspaper, the men's team is shown making slit-eyed gestures on a basketball court emblazoned with a Chinese dragon.

 

 

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Rule no. 1 of political campaigning: Embrace xenophobic patriotism

According to leaked emails, Clinton strategist Mark Penn advised his candidate to paint Obama as unpatriotic. McCain was apparently listening.

Political strategists think alike, and their Machiavellian mindset leads them without fail to the low road of branding their opponent as unpatriotic, un-American, and vaguely French. That's the takeaway from leaked emails by Mark Penn, former top strategist of the Clinton campaign, who it turns out suggested an uber-patriotic approach to Clinton that the McCain camp has taken up, with gusto, in the last several weeks of the presidential campaign.

The New York Times has an excerpt from a soon-to-be-published article in The Atlantic, which includes hundreds of leaked emails from the Clinton campaign. Here is one choice bit of Penn advice:

All of these articles about his boyhood in Indonesia and his life in Hawaii are geared towards showing his background is diverse, multicultural and putting that in a new light.

Save it for 2050. … Every speech should contain the line you were born in the middle of America American to the middle class in the middle of the last century. And talk about the basic bargain as about the deeply American values you grew up with, learned as a child and that drive you today. Values of fairness, compassion, responsibility, giving back …

Let’s explicitly own "American" in our programs, the speeches and the values. He doesn’t. Make this a new American Century, the American Strategic Energy Fund. Let’s use our logo to make some flags we can give out. Let’s add flag symbols to the backgrounds.

McCain's campaign seems to be following this script line by line. His campaign has adopted a new slogan, "Country First," and his campaign ads and statements in recent weeks — especially since Obama's Berlin speech — have highlighted Obama's celebrity appeal to foreigners, and accused the Illinois senator of being unpatriotic.

Things get complicated by the race issue. For example, in an ABC News interview after Obama's Berlin speech, one McCain supporter made a point of mentioning how McCain was "all-American" and "one of us." Those could be references to Obama's lack of patriotism — or they could be code words for race. 

Intentionally or not, McCain's current line of attack strikes both of these lightning rods. His strategists, like Penn, know that "international" and "American" are mutually exclusive terms in this country's politics — even if trends of globalization mean that, in the "real world," American and global interests look increasingly alike.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Is our food made from petroleum?

Everything you were afraid to ask about Pringles and petroleum. 

A reader E. commented on my post, "The politics of Pringles," asking whether the claims in it were true. I wasn’t sure if E. was talking about the post itself or another reader comment, which claimed that the food we eat is made from petroleum. In any case, here are the facts on both claims:

Are Pringles potato chips, or some potato-like substance in a can?

The latter. Their potato content is less than 50 percent, and Procter & Gamble, the maker of Pringles, has itself argued in a British court that the Pringle cannot be considered a "potato crisp" (the British term for "potato chip"). For corroboration, see the links in my previous post, or this BBC article

Now, there is a silly Internet rumor floating around that Pringles are made from leftover McDonald’s French fries, which is untrue, as this post at urbanlegends.about.com makes clear. That said, there is also a lot of funny business that goes into making McDonald’s French fries taste so good, as you can read here.

Is our food made from petroleum?

It depends on what you mean by "made from."

Today’s industrial farms grow crops like corn and wheat using chemical fertilizers and pesticides, both of which are derived from petroleum. Fossil fuels are also needed to plow and irrigate the fields and ship the harvest to market. (See this New York Times article about how rising fuel costs are hurting American farmers.)

So, our food is made using lots and lots of petroleum. Even in organic industrial agriculture, the fossil-fuel tab is considerable: Michael Pollan says that the 80 calories of energy in a single, one-pound box of lettuce requires the burning of 4,600 calories of fossil fuels to produce and ship.

Is petroleum actually in our food?

If you are like most Americans and eat food with artificial dyes in it, then yes.

Synthetic food dyes are "derived primarily from petroleum and coal sources," according to the Food and Drug Administration. In fact, this U.S. News article points out that the fears about the ill effects that petroleum- and coal-based artificial dyes may have on children are prompting companies to switch to natural, carmine-based dyes. The problem is, carmine is made from ground-up insects. Carmine also happens to be an allergen.

And so it goes.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

The race war in Darfur

Here's one of the most concise pieces I've seen detailing the genocide in Darfur.

Here’s one of the most concise pieces I’ve seen detailing the genocide in Darfur:

It seems to me that not enough attention is being paid to the racial component of the killings. This 60 Minutes piece describes the African Arab militias known as the Janjaweed as “racist,” which is an apt term but one I’ve rarely heard, even though it might translate the genocide there into terms that Westerners can better understand. The social categories in Sudan are complicated, as they are everywhere, but that said the genocide there is not unlike the lynchings and other kinds of Jim Crow-era violence that whites used to intimidate, terrorize, and drive off African Americans.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Breaking our addiction to oil, cold turkey

Everyone (even the president) talks about America's "addiction to oil," and this recent debate over offshore drilling has made me think that the addiction analogy is a useful way to think through the issues.

Everyone (even the president) talks about America’s "addiction to oil," and this recent debate over offshore drilling has made me think that the addiction analogy is a useful way to think through the issues.

Republicans want to drill offshore and in other new areas (such as Alaska) because they think it’s a quick and easy way to reduce gas prices. I’m somewhat sympathetic to this view: More supply will lower prices, and it is clear that many Americans are hurting terribly because of the higher costs of not only gas but all the goods and services that come from the burning of fossil fuels in our economy — basically, everything else. Yes, the higher price of gas is reducing consumption, just like a gas tax (remember the discussion of that in 2004?), which means less carbon emissions and less global warming, but the pacing is the problem: Everything is happening way too suddenly. The sharp rise in prices has blindsided Americans, especially those of fewer means, and these are households that are teetering on the edge to begin with, and can’t absorb the one-two punch of higher gas and food costs.

Democrats argue that drilling offshore will cause serious, irreparable harm to the environment, and may not even help lower gas prices that much, if at all, given what a small amount of oil can feasibly be pumped from the bottom of the sea, relative to Middle Eastern sources. All offshore drilling leads to oil waste being pumped into the sea, not to mention a risk of disastrous oil spills during transport, and so the damage that this kind of drilling can cause to oceans and seashores (and, more pragmatically, to the tourism industry) is very real.

But the most persuasive argument to me is that more drilling simply delays the solution to the problem. The solution is clear to everyone, I think: We need to develop non-polluting, renewable sources of energy. By drilling, we divert limited economic and political resources toward propping up an industry that eventually must be phased out. Every investment dollar that goes into the oil industry is a dollar not going to green energy.

It’s like a drug addict, who knows she has to quit, but keeps finding new reasons to shoot up. The solution is to stop using. The effects of using are clearly bad, and every time she gives into temptation, she makes the situation worse, and the addiction harder to break. Likewise, by continuing to give into our oil addiction, we’re making global warming and our Middle Eastern dependency worse, and moving further away from our goal of abstinence.

It’s a bit ironic that the Democrats are the ones who advocate quitting cold turkey this time, while the Republicans want "just one more taste."

If we really do need just "one more taste" to tide over our struggling families, then we might as well use the oil sources that have already been tapped — diverting some of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve, and recycling existing oilfields. It’s sort of like using the drugs stashed under your mattress rather than heading into the city to re-up. (Not that I have any experience in these things.) It’s still bad behavior, but at least you don’t have to go too far.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Ed Burns, American writer

What is similar [in war] is the way people act, men in close quarters. It’s always us against them. The us becomes ever, ever smaller, and the them becomes the whole world. —Ed Burns, American writer

What is similar [in war] is the way people act, men in close quarters. It’s always us against them. The us becomes ever, ever smaller, and the them becomes the whole world. —Ed Burns, American writer

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Robert A. Heinlein, American novelist and science fiction writer

“Love” is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own. —Robert A. Heinlein, American novelist and science fiction writer

“Love” is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own. —Robert A. Heinlein, American novelist and science fiction writer

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Study: Mice who stop drinking booze swim less

Actually, the study claims to show a relationship between abstinence from alcohol drinking and depression, but what about those poor mice?

Medical research owes much to the mouse, that wee rodent that is more guinea pig than guinea pig, standing in selflessly (if unwillingly) on behalf of human beings in countless lab experiments that palpitate, penetrate, irradiate, and incinerate it in the name of science. Apparently, the mouse is an excellent surrogate for us humans across a wide variety of physiological measures.

All this said, this study, which examines the effect of ending alcohol consumption in mice, made me laugh. The study authors argue that their research shows a "causal link between abstinence from alcohol drinking and depression." I'm sure a good deal of the theoretical complexity behind this research got lost in the write-up, but I found it hilarious that we can infer this "causal link" in human beings by seeing whether mice who stop drinking can swim in a beaker of water. (It's called the Porsolt Swim Test.) Those mice who just float without swimming are deemed depressed. No word on whether they subsequently get therapy or AA.

I also love the name of the center responsible for this study, the "Bowles Center for Alcohol Studies." It sounds like a fun place to work: beer pong every Friday?

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Onward, Christian soldiers

I was disturbed by this report that a former Baptist, now atheist, soldier is alleging discrimination in the Army because of his beliefs. He served two tours of duty in Iraq, but he claims he was ostracized and even threatened after he refused to pray with other soldiers.

 

I was disturbed by this report that a former Baptist, now atheist, soldier is alleging discrimination in the Army because of his beliefs. He served two tours of duty in Iraq, but he claims he was ostracized and even threatened after he refused to pray with other soldiers.

After decades of virulent racial segregation, the U.S. military has won an admirable reputation for creating esprit de corps across ethnic and racial lines, and has made recent strides in extending equality to women servicemembers (its intolerance of gays and lesbians in uniform, of course, is a different matter). In any case, you'd think the military would know better not to discriminate based on religion, if only to avoid the public perception, particularly in the Middle East, that America is a Christian nation waging a war against Islam. It doesn't help that a group like the Officers' Christian Fellowship, which has representatives "on nearly all military bases worldwide," has made it their mission to "raise up a godly military," whatever that means.

When I was watching that series Carrier, I found the segment on religion particularly interesting, because evangelical Christians clearly dominated (well, there was a Wiccan group) and I got the sense that sometimes officers led prayers that everyone was expected to follow. It made me wonder how atheist soldiers got along with the rest of the crew. (Of course, the discrimination that believers face in many secular settings is worrisome, too. But hopefully there are fewer guns and bombs involved.)

Religiously inclined soldiers can take solace in their faith after going through the hell of armed combat, and surely that's why there are so many chaplains in the ranks of the military. Yet, if I were a man of the cloth (for the sake of argument), I wonder what would be going through my head as I blessed soldiers going off to kill the enemy. That "Thou shalt not kill" business in the Bible seems rather clear. When asking for God's help, it's probably best not to ask for things He doesn't much care for, like killing. And you know the other side is praying hard, too; asking God to take sides in a fight is like asking a parent to choose between her kids.

It reminds me of what Lincoln said during the Civil War when he was asked by a group of leaders to join them in prayer that God be on the Union's side. He answered, "Sir, my concern is not whether God is on our side; my greatest concern is to be on God's side, for God is always right."

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

The politics of Pringles

I was hungry the other day at the pharmacy (never a good idea), and so I bought a can — okay, two cans — of Pringles. Then I read today that the makers of Pringles successfully argued before a British tax court that the Pringle is not a potato chip.

 

I was hungry the other day at the pharmacy (never a good idea), and so I bought a can — okay, two cans — of Pringles. I know they're horrible for you. A telltale sign of poor nutritional value is a perfect, recurring shape not found anywhere in nature, and the Euclidean geometry of a Pringles chip is rightly described as supernatural. But, in my lightheaded state of hunger in that store aisle, I reasoned that any sane person, if posed with the choice between a Twinkie and a Pringle, would choose the chip, which in its defense has a color resembling potato, and not the unholy yellow gleam of a Hostess sponge cake.

Then I read today that the makers of Pringles successfully argued before a British tax court that the Pringle is not a potato chip. It has a potato content of 42 percent. The rest is corn flour, wheat starch, rice flour, and a host of other substances concocted by modern-day alchemists probably working out of a lab in New Jersey.

Procter & Gamble, the maker of Pringles, made an eloquent case on behalf of their product's unwholesomeness. (The corporation petitioned the court to get out of paying a British sales tax levied on food products.) The Pringle, said one lawyer, does not taste like — or "behave like" — a crisp (the British word for chip). "It has none of the irregularity and variety of shape that is always present in crisps. It has a shape not found in nature, being designed and manufactured for stacking, and giving a pleasing and regular undulating appearance which permits comfortable eating."

It is never a good sign when your food is in the same sentence as the word "manufactured." The word "undulating" should also raise hairs on the back of your head.

The lawyers for the non-chip chip went so far as to suggest in court that most shoppers didn't think of the Pringle as a potato chip (in spite of the fact that, at least in the U.S., the can clearly says "potato crisps" — as you can see in the photo above). This begs the question, "What on God's earth do they think it is?"

Perhaps the Pringle is an example of what Michael Pollan calls "edible foodlike substances." A Pringle is not real food, but an amalgam of food and various artificial dyes, flavors, and preservatives. It's unclear what some of these synthetic substances do to the body in the long term. Recently, a watchdog group called for the banning of artificial food dyes because of research that suggests they contribute to attention and hyperactivity problems in children.

Pollen advises people to buy food from the edges of the supermarket — from the aisles with refrigerated meats and dairy and unprocessed fruits and vegetables — since everything in the middle is not perishable, and therefore laced with preservatives. The pharmacy where I bought my Pringles probably counts as such a dead zone.

Maybe the makers of Pringles should have just taken the sales-tax hit and left us chip eaters in blissful ignorance. What will we as a society do, without our edible foodlike substances?

I think I'll go have some undulating chips now.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen

 

Movie analysis: Spielberg’s A.I., a fable about life’s loss

Watching Artificial Intelligence A.I. recently made me think about what this flawed, profound film has to say about the meaning of loss and our own future as a species.

 

Here’s another in an occasional series of posts on films. I call it "analysis" rather than "review" because I look at the whole film, so there are almost always spoilers (you have been warned). You read reviews before watching a film; you read analysis afterward. I call it "movie analysis" rather than "film analysis" because I’m not a film scholar and I’m not interested in the craft of films, but rather their ideas.

Stanley Kubrick came up with the idea for Artificial Intelligence A.I., and he worked with Steven Spielberg to develop the film, which Spielberg ended up directing after Kubrick’s death. This may account for the peculiar mix of light and dark in the film’s themes, though Spielberg says it was he who brought a more somber note to Kubrick’s original script.

The film received mixed reviews, and there are certainly some conspicuous flaws in its plodding ending and the tin-ear direction of some of its scenes. But that said, A.I. is a vehicle for some powerful, profound ideas.

It is at heart a film about loss. Most obviously it is about a child rejected by his mother, but the robot boy David would have lost his mother even if she had not abandoned him. "Fifty years," the mother Monica tells her adopted son, is all she can be expected to live; and that is just a single sunrise and sunset to an immortal being. His journey in the film is a quest to find eternal love, which implies eternal life. The darkness at the core of A.I. is not the pain of abandonment but the knowledge that all things shall pass.

A.I. is also a film about the loss of the human race. "Death by global warming" is a scenario common to many futuristic films, in which a Noah-like deluge drowns a greedy, unrepentant, politically incorrect world. Politics and jeremiads aside, however, the end of human life (or all life) appears inevitable regardless of climate change, given that our sun (and all suns in this universe), the ultimate source of the energy that nurtures life, will one day burn out. (Isaac Asimov wrote a fascinating short story on this very topic.) What happens when the sun "breaks down," and "death shall have no dominion" — because life is no more? The great, unthinkable tragedy is not the loss of one life, but all life, and with it all that humanity has labored, fought, and loved.

The ending of A.I., in which David is given the chance to spend a single day with a reincarnation of his long-dead mother, is an explicit (albeit contrived) insertion of elements of the fable into science fiction. It is fantastical because the science of cloning (by replicating the DNA in a hair, in this case) can produce only a twin of ourselves, and never our true selves — our physical selves included — shaped as they have been by experiences unique in time. The popular fascination with cloning is itself driven by modern-day fairy tales of conquering death, with little basis in science. But the film depicts another, more essential fantasy: this dream that we can salvage our experiences somehow from the spacetime continuum, as the futuristic mecha do in the film when resurrecting Monica. The hope implicit in this fable is that the past is not lost to us; all that has happened has left a mark somewhere, like fossils in the earth, and perhaps one day we will find a way to recover them.

It is this reality that our civilization’s fables seek to overthrow with all their magic. We do not know whether what we do matters, because if it matters there must be some eternal memory of it. We have children, in part, to live beyond death; we seek fame and fortune, in part, to leave something for the ages. But even this, too, shall pass.

Victor Tan Chen is In The Fray's editor in chief and the author of Cut Loose: Jobless and Hopeless in an Unfair Economy. Site: victortanchen.com | Facebook | Twitter: @victortanchen