Never mind the fact that the older I get the more depressing zoos get, but instead realize that part of nature photography is the patience and dedication that it takes to get those amazing shots. Then you come here, pay your $15, $20 if you’d like a tour on the train ride (I recommend the train ride) and get your beautiful closeups.

At least ditch the Rascal, and get one of them hand operated wheel chairs. You make me sick you fat crippie.

Well yeah…. I took pictures at the zoo. It was that or talk to the family.

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When I was a young boy, home alone during the Summer months I would often consume Hormel’s canned chili for lunch. It slides out of the can like dog food, it’s ready to consume after 4 minutes in the microwave and it can be dumped onto anything (I once ate strawberries and chili). I remember it fondly, but like so many foods I loved as a child (any fast food ever) it has lost virtually all of its appeal to me. It is bland, boring and of questionable quality and origin. So with fond memories of what was, and a better understanding of true quality I  began the ritualistic search for something better.

My first chili making foray was undertaken on a cold day in San Francisco. I was essentially jobless, very bored and mildly depressed. I would often fill my days with little projects, like walking from the apartment in the sunset to the mission district to visit a thrift store I read about,  planning a UFO hoax, or dawning a backpacking backpack and cutting through golden gate park to Smart And Final to do grocery shopping, then hoofing it back through the botanical gardens as a workout… Essentially I was like a twenty two year old retiree, just filling up time. One of these lonely, lazy days was spent making chili. I went to a upper scale grocery store and bought something like 5lbs of high quality tri-tip, and all the other necessary ingredients, I think I probably spent fifty bucks. I slaved over it for hours, it was a complicated recipe for a chili dish, and the end result was horrid. The meat fell apart, in a bad way, it was too spicy and a complete failure. The left overs lived untouched in the freezer for months…

Time passed and I improved my cooking skills a considerable bit. I learned a lot about balance in food (and in life, hurrr), and when I was good and ready, I tried making chili again. It was this recipe that I used, and since then I’ve made it probably four times. Each time I figure out a little bit more and worry about the process a little bit less, and each time it gets better and better.

The keys to making good chili are to keep it simple, take it slow and don’t over do it. I’m always tempted to get freaky with a dish, throw in some cinnamon, double the spiciness, toss in a handful of bacon (actually that generally works…) and I’m usually disappointed with the results. What I never understood was that before you go and make abstract art you’ve got to understand the basics. This chili is a great 101 level dish.

I found this recipe on bigoven.com but it apparently takes its basics from a 1994 Championship Chili from the Tirlingua Chili Cookoff produced by non-other than this man.

Jim Hedrick AKA "Doc J" of Roanoke, Virginia

One look at that picture and you know two things. The early ’90s were just generally fucked up, and that Doc J is a man that knows himself some chili.

The chili itself is a really simple creation. Basically you’re browning some meat, getting the juices going, adding stock and tomato sauce and bringing it to a simmer. From there you’re just adding in chili powder and spices in three stages throughout the cooking time. The magic seems to happen in the way that the spicing of the chili is staggered, kinda like how hops are added to beer multiple times throughout the boiling process. You build a base, then as the initial spices cook down, add more and vary them to make it pop again. The spiciness of the chili really comes more from the cayenne and the chili powder, than from the chilies that the recipe calls for (three serranos are floated in the pot and removed when soft). However, the actual chilies do impart a certain fresh zing that would otherwise be missed. I couldn’t avoid getting crazy with it and I threw a habanero in there for good measure, I couldn’t tell much of a difference but it certainly increased the badass factor.

When the chili is done it comes out flavorful on the front and mildly spicy on the back end. The broth is absolutely wonderfully greasy and satisfying, I could drink it in the mornings instead of coffee. I add beans to the mix because I like it a little heartier and don’t give a shit what Texas thinks of me (or about anything).

Really chili is remarkably hard to fuck up, follow the recipe, insure you don’t go overboard with the salt and spiciness and you’ll be sitting pretty. The big bonus of chili making comes in the days afterward in which you have a legitimate excuse to chili-ize any other dish. When you’re making chili-cheese omelets at 8am or Frito chili pie at 3am (stoned) you’ll thank me.

“Doc J’s” 1994 Tirlingua Chili Recipe on Big Oven

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What is it about a library that seems to attract people of all ages, races and states of consciousness? I suppose the abundance of chairs featuring arms, the warmth/cool (depending on the season) and the general free-ness of the place draws folks into it’s comforting bookish bosom.

I am convinced that this man is ghost. A long dead master of some eastern metaphysical cult. In life he so loved knowledge that he returns to our earthly plane at night and strolls the halls of our libraries, pausing from time to time to pull a book from the shelf, read a few lines and smile knowingly to himself before moving on. Eventually he becomes exhausted from the strain of materializing his soul and he begins the process of returning to the realm of ghosts and wind. Which is what he’s doing right now.

Even if he isn’t a ghost, I approve completely of his presence in the library. He’s quiet, well kept and has a certain dignified air that hangs about him even while sleeping. Contrasted to the beast man I last reviewed, he is a drowsy zen garden, while tub-tard is a couch on your trashy neighbors lawn.

(A man can go his whole life without getting the chance to photograph something so magical as this. I had to sneak up on them like a wildlife photographer, the fat kid had just settled in and was not yet fully asleep. Very dangerous territory.)

Asian man:

• Dignified nearly upright posture
• Perfectly silent (Ninja?)
• Even though sleeping, still a model of self discipline

Fat kid:

• So slouched he requires the use of an auxiliary chair
• Makes grunting noises while setting up his sickening sleep concoction, makes grunting noises while sleeping, makes grunting noises when awaking, makes grunting noises while leaving
• All those who see him weep uncontrollably for the future of America

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I hate you sleeping fat kid. I don’t care if your rascal scooter broke and you had to waddle all the way from your car to campus. I don’t care if you ate a bag of candy corn and pitched yourself into a diabetic coma. These are not my concerns.

Why are you here? It’s 8am. The earliest classes are at 8am. If it’s 8am and you’re not in a class that means you’re here early.  In other words, you came with the soul intention of lumbering into the library to catch a manatee like nap. This angers me. I don’t know why exactly, but every time you fidget in your sleep or make some grunting sound, I cringe and despair for humanity.

I’m trying to pound out an essay about something I can already barely manage to care about and having your 300lbs of living, breathing, useless mass 10 feet away is not helping.

So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to go against ever fiber of my being and break the golden rule of the library. I’m going to be loud. I’ll start with a cough, if that doesn’t rouse you I’m going to position my squeaky ass laptop screen repeatedly (it sounds like a spooky Halloween style door creak). If that should fail, I’m going to begin cycling through available ring tones on my cell phone.  I will continue to do this each Tuesday and Thursday until you vacate the library, or find some other place to plop down in. Capiche?

Here’s my review section: If you’re thinking about buying a fat kid to hang around you and sleep all day, don’t. It’s depressing and horrible and will almost certainly turn you into a hate filled jerk.

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