ToW #10 - Infographic on Salt Intake: "Salt Mountains"

Yes, I did randomly select this infographic. 

I originally thought that it was about those huge piles of sediment that you see at mining sites.

        Made by the aptly named company GDS Infographics, this is a rather unengaging though powerful infographic that effectively compares the salt content of various foods with daily required salt intake. Though little information can be found about GDS Infographics (maybe they should make an infographic about themselves), its overflowing online portfolio tells me that the designer(s) behind it has a lot of experience. The inclusion of sources on "Salt Mountains" also lends itself to the credibility of GDS Infographics. Given the current state of health of the average American and the inclusion of the monstrously tall "Average US intake" mountain, it seems that the main reason behind the creation of this infographic was to ignite some movement towards salt intake awareness. Of course, given that it is only concerned with salt intake within the US, it is clear that this infographic was intended for Americans who eat or know someone who eats a lot of salt-rich food (i.e. all of us). While "Salt Mountains" was seemingly made for Next Generation Food, it seems that the denoted website, www.nextgenerationfood.com, is out of commission, adding to the ambiguity of the infographic's context.

        Being an infographic, "Salt Mountains" inherently appeals to logos. But how does it do this? In two simple ways: through its visual and numerical comparisons and through its orderly sorting system. Of course, its comparisons are its main premise, being perceived both through the number values in mg of salt and through the easier to understand mountains depicted throughout. But alas, these comparisons are not all that easy to see from a glance; the viewer has to read (which takes effort, often a deal-breaker) what each mountain represents, taking them out of the overall visual dissemination of information. If, say, pictures of each food item were depicted, the infographic would be both more engaging (allowing for easier view of the comparisons) and more visually appealing. Then, the sorting system, embodied by the upwards legend and the color coding, is a more passive appeal to logos; it doesn't exactly impose anything on the viewer. Instead, it is more a tool for the viewer to use in understanding the infographic. Again, if there were pictures of each food item, the viewer would be able to see the categories without a key. Because of these shortcomings, the entire infographic is pretty unengaging, hiding the powerful message about salt moderation beneath a layer of cognition.

ToW #9 - Magazine Article from Esquire: "The Best Coast to Buy Oysters From"

        I feel like I've only been reading ToWs that agree with my personality recently, so I decided to go for something conflicting with me: Esquire Magazine's "Eat Like a Man" blog. At odds were a deep thinker versus a shallow subject, a lover of obscure culture versus the poppiest of pop-culture magazines, a vegan teen versus a carnivorous man. And yet, I still found it somewhat enjoyable. Let's see why.

        So, this particular (October 13th) installation of "Eat Like a Man" was a sort of Q&A correspondence between the "Man" himself, Josh Ozersky, and writers-in from all around the United States. Set up like an interrogation of Ozersky conducted by unassuming fans, the article flows pretty smoothly between questions on technical food terms to advice on what to make for "Thankakkuh" (of course, Thanksgiving and Hanukkah mix a bit this year). Ozersky does much to prove his credibility as an experienced chef and linguist throughout his answers, effortlessly naming various varieties of oysters, explaining the specifics of what makes a steak "rare" or "medium well", and using very impressive words like "milquetoast", "merroir", and "heterodoxy". Now, unless I've underestimated Esquire's key demographic, this article seems more than a bit advanced for the magazine. Some sprucing up could make it acceptable for some high-brow bi-quarterly food journal.

        The question-and-answer format of this article gives a good hint towards what the audience is like: people with nicknames akin to "Dr. BBQ" and locations within North America. It is quite clear that Ozersky's explicit purpose is to answer his audience's various questions effectively and act as a teacher of the food arts. In doing this, there are hardly any obvious rhetorical choices made; Ozersky writes very conversationally; one gets the feeling that he did not think through or revise his prose. Still, this creates a sort of uncluttered, simplistic feeling to the article, perhaps making it easier to glean facts from it. In this way, I'd have to say that this blog post was undeniably effective and even enjoyable; Ozersky's sheer knowledge of all things food is astounding and his conversational tone is engaging. But then, glancing at the sidebar titled "What to Read Next" and seeing oodles of banal, shallow articles, I still don't think that I'll stick around with Esquire Magazine.

Glidden Point oysters: "full of oomph and mineral zing".

IRB #2 Introduction: "The Defining Decade"

        In this next installment of these quickly progressing marking periods, I plan to read a book by clinical psychologist Meg Jay, The Defining Decade: Why your twenties matter--and how to make the most of them now. In case that subtitle does not explain the book thoroughly enough, The Defining Decade's premise is the argument that most of a person's personality and future life is decided while they are between 20 and 30 years old. After establishing this premise, it speaks primarily about how to seize that decade in productive ways.
        So why, out of all of the possible nonfiction books in the world did I pick this one? I mean, being a sixteen-year-old, I'm not quite worried about my twenties just yet. To put my reasoning shortly and sweetly, I love my mom. Yep, she's been reading this book recently (as her paper-towel bookmark sticking out of its middle attests) and, respecting her choices in reading, I decided to pick it up myself. And hey, after Jay used a Pink Floyd lyric to introduce her first chapter, I'm obliged to say there have not been any regrets so far.

ToW #8 - IRB by Michael Pollan: "The Botany of Desire"

        Michael Pollan, the long-time botanist, journalist, and author, continues The Botany of Desire with chapters on the human relationships to the beautiful Tulip, the mind-altering Cannabis, and the easily controlled Potato. The sophistication of his explorations increase somewhat as these chapters go by, making the book best suited for people with a high capacity for understanding and versed science and history educations. For example, subjects vary from neurological chemistry to Dutch history to Nietzschean philosophy. Pollan writes about the formerly mentioned plants after much scholarly research (he speaks with leading neuroscientists about THC, the high-inducing chemical in Cannabis) and after growing each of the plants in his own garden. In fact, he begins his chapter on Cannabis with an anecdote from his one and only pot-farming escapade. Needless to say, Pollan proves himself as an expert on the human history of those aforementioned plants.
        The primary purpose of Pollan's seems to be to encourage a deeper appreciation of cultivated vegetation. In the chapter on tulips, he contrasts the dime-a-dozen brightly colored modern tulip with the Semper Augustus, a tulip that brought the Netherlands into an economic flower frenzy. This comparison enriches the cultural significance of the tulip in the reader's eyes, allowing them to regard it in a more flattering light. Then, when speaking about marijuana, Pollan takes a scientific look at the chemical genius that it contains rather than the traditional romanticized sentiment that so many others write about. This brings the reader into a sort of reverence for the drug's chemistry regardless of whether or not they approve of its cultural taboo. For myself at least, a reader who was very lucky to find a book that was extremely well-suited for him, Pollan was undeniably successful. As I read The Botany of Desire, I felt my intellectual world broadening, my neurological connections being reinforced, and, most importantly for Mr. Pollan, I felt the seed of botanical appreciation being sown and enjoyed every moment of its roots burrowing ever deeper into my mind.

A little bit more than your average tulip, eh?