The Recklessness Of Calling The President A 'Nigga'.

At President Obama's final White House Correspondents’ Association Dinner this past Saturday night, jokes were told and punchlines were... well, punched. And yet, I can't help but feel a little disappointed after watching the event. Larry Wilmore, a rather talented comedian and news pundit, hosted the event. I typically enjoy Wilmore's comedy, but his closing remarks left me scratching my head. To quote:

“I’m going to keep it 100. Yo Barry, you did it my nigga.”

Now, I'm not going to lob accusations of racism at Wilmore. I fully realize that he did not intend anything atrocious by calling the President a 'nigga'. In fact, Wilmore most certainly intended the use of the word as a friendly gesture. And yet, the callous implementation of such a derogatory label represents the very problem I have with someone identifying the President a 'nigga'. Or, for that matter, anyone else. Our President, love him or hate him, holds a distinct honor of lofty esteem. The office of the President deserves respect, even in moments of anger or disagreement. It's not the person filling the shoes of Commander-in-Chief, but the position itself that should be venerated.

Wilmore's use of 'nigga' represents a continuing social dilemma that I've written about previously (read here, here and here). For hundreds of years in this country, minorities of African descent were chained, enslaved, beaten, attacked, raped and all-around denigrated, only to be called 'niggers' as a stamp of sub-human garbage. As recently as the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960's, our fellow citizens bled (and in many cases died) to live as equal men and women, free from the label of 'nigger'. Over the course of recent history, 'nigger' has morphed into 'nigga', essentially as a product of slang and street culture. Though they may be spelled slightly differently, they are one in the same. 'Nigga' is spelled phonetically to represent common vernacular.

And here we are, 2016... our President (a man of mixed heritage, nonetheless) being called a 'nigga'.

Such reckless abandon for our own shared history, no matter your ethnic heritage or place of origin, is grossly negligent. Despite the friendly motivations by calling another man a 'nigga', are we so blind as to not understand what the word means? Do we not understand the immense struggle behind such a connotation of disparagement? I don't believe in censorship of any kind, but I do believe that we must be responsible for the words that we speak.

No man is a 'nigga'. Not your friend. Not your family member. And most certainly, not the President.

Draw Something: Mole

Even though these little diggers can ruin a yard, I'm actually quite fond of moles. They successfully exist in low-oxygen environments, having adapted by an evolved haemoglobin protein to use inhaled oxygen highly efficiently. Their ability to capture worms and other insects makes them top-tier underground predators. And yet, moles are solitary creatures, only coming together to mate. Moles are survivors, through and through.

Rejected By Basement-Dwelling Nerds.

Last night, I joined a local Dungeons and Dragons game group on the community website Meetup. My social life is on life support, so I thought I'd roll the dice and give it a shot. I've always had a fleeting interest in trying the infamous adventure game. Yet, growing up in rural Virginia never allowed an opportunity for me to give it a try.

Mind you, I played Magic: The Gathering for years by myself because no one else knew about it. That's how far out in the boondocks I was.

Upon joining an open group in Greensboro which is looking for new and experienced players, I sent the administrator a short note. In it, I introduced myself, explained my lack of experience and asked when I could come to acquaint myself with the game and their group's players.

This morning, I received a response.

The group administrator thanked me for my interest, but stated that they were full of experienced players and would keep me in mind in the future. Following the message, the admin promptly removed me from their open and public group.

An OPEN and PUBLIC group. Let that sink in.

"Hah, this guy Jared thought he could be a part of our group? What a loser!"

I wouldn't be so annoyed if the group didn't state that it was looking for new players. And yet, denied access I was. I've now been rejected by basement-dwelling nerds. My social life is officially dead.

Of course, I realize that the problem exists with the admin/group and not myself, but I still can't help but feel a bit depressed. As if I already weren't a hermit, being rejected in such a manner doesn't help. Is it even possible for a Dungeons and Dragons game to be full? Isn't it an open-ended role-playing game where multiple people can participate? I feel like I was fed an excuse, though for what reason I can't say.

Back to the drawing board, I suppose. Maybe I can find another group on Meetup that will interest me. At some point, maybe I'll revive my social life.

Laqunah: Part VI

Bursting through the curtains behind the shop counter, Ova beamed with absolute delight. She wore the mark of admittance on her sleeve, letting the entire world know about her success. Hultran sat huddled behind the kitchen table, attempting to eat a slice of minced marigold pie. Just as he was about to take the first bite, she squeezed his neck with the force of a giant vice grip.

“You're in?”

A smile ear to ear...

“I am in!”

“I'm so very proud of you. What a treat!”

Pushing the tart dessert down his throat, he couldn't help but grin along the way. To be the parent of a Persimmon student was highly regarded within the walls of Laqunah. More so, to have a child attend was a source of personal pride. Yes, he had done a great job raising the child after all. Though, to be fair, Ova had just as much of a hand in raising Hultran. They were a finely tuned pair, father and daughter, ready to overcome any hurdle thrown their way.

Next to Hultran's plate sat a peculiar book filled with drawings and photographs. Along the cover were intricate swirls of silver and cobalt against a deep orange hue. Hultran flipped through the pages as he ate. Ova peeked over his shoulder as her curiosity got the best of her.

“What an odd book. Where did you get it?”

Hultran pushed the empty plate away, bringing the book front and center.

“I received it in trade while you were at your meeting. A poor soul claiming to be without money asked for a card reading. They offered this book in lieu of payment. I figured why not... it's been a slow day anyway.”

As they marveled at the fanciful tome, their eyes widened at the sights held within. Page after page filled with scenes not of their world. Metal tanks rolling through lanes straddled by stone towers. Creatures highly similar to Ova appearing to be happy, standing alongside great stretches of coastline. Flying animals and beasts with claws. Massive statues adorned with gold and teal. A large white castle barricaded behind a fence.

“Where is this place, dad?”

At a complete loss, Hultran closed the book and set it aside.

“I've no clue, my dear... but it's giving me a headache. Perhaps we can revisit it after dinner?”

A Short Note On North Carolina Moped Drivers.

At least she's wearing a helmet?

I watched as a moped unsafely whipped ahead of a line of cars this morning while driving, only for said moped to delay traffic and unreasonably slow everyone down. And yet, that moped is allowed on public North Carolina roadways without a licensed operator.

This is simply unacceptable.

I realize that some other states require moped operators to be licensed. North Carolina should do the same. Test people in the much the same manner as motorcyclists. Require that they possess the proper insurance. Make sure that everyone operating a motor vehicle has been evaluated and deemed responsible enough to share the highway, moped drivers included. More importantly, hold moped drivers in equal regard with other drivers. If they're caught driving while intoxicated, they must face the same penalties as drivers operating trucks, motorcycles and cars. Mopeds are involved in hundreds of accidents every year. Mopeds can and do kill people.

All drivers operating a motor-powered vehicle on the highway must be held to the same standard. Period.

The Hardest Part Of The Human Body.

When one thinks of the hardest, most durable parts of the human body, there are some obvious guesses that could be made. The skull? Maybe the hip? Perhaps your femur?

No, no and no.

Believe it or not, the hardest part of the human body is in your mouth. Tooth enamel, the outermost layer of your teeth, is the most adamantine structure you possess. Enamel is largely composed of hydroxyapatite, which is a crystalline calcium phosphate. As such, it is stronger than any bone you have.

And yet, even tooth enamel has its weaknesses. What you eat determines the longevity of your enamel and overall dental health. Sugar is extremely destructive to enamel. Why? Because sugar acts as a food source for oral bacteria. As sugar comes to rest on your teeth, bacteria feed on it. This produces lactic acid. Accordingly, the lactic acid lowers the pH in the mouth. With a lower pH, the mineral structure of the hydroxyapatite in your enamel begins to erode, allowing bacteria to further invade the interior of a tooth. It's a endless cycle, ultimately leading to a tooth rotting out if not treated. Also harmful to tooth enamel are various acids, like that found in your gastrointestinal system or from soda pop. Of note, a hard-bristle toothbrush can also wear away the enamel over a long period of use. Soft-bristle toothbrushes are the way to go!

This is what sugar does to your mouth. It leads to enamel loss, allowing bacteria to invade and destroy your teeth.

Your tooth enamel will serve you a lifetime if you take care of it. Brush twice a day and limit your sugar intake as much as possible. Do that and the hardest substance in your body stay that way.

How Does An Atomic Clock Work?

We all know the importance of clocks. They keep us running on time. Without them, we'd miss soccer practice and school, dentist appointments and weddings. The clock is a highly important tool, perhaps in the upper echelon of humanity's greatest inventions. But what about atomic clocks?

Just to alleviate your fears... no, atomic clocks don't run on nuclear power.

The base function of time-keeping with an atomic clock is grounded in atomic physics (not nuclear physics as many may believe). Using the electromagnetic transition frequency found within atoms, an atomic clock bases its mechanism of measurement against this standard. More often than not, atomic clocks rely upon the microwave signals that electrons emit in an atom when they change energy levels.

So how do atomic clocks work? With lasers. Coooooool!

Pew. Pew. Lasers are so rad.

Using captured atoms in a microwave-filled atomic fountain (a cloud of atoms tossed upwards by lasers in the Earth's gravitational field), atomic clocks employ said lasers to slow atoms down dramatically. In fact, the atoms are slowed to nearly absolute zero. That's frigid! Once the atoms are slowed to almost a standstill, the are probed to measure the time difference between the electrons changing their energy level.

At this point, you may be asking "Jared, what atoms are used to measure time in an atomic clock?" Good question! Atomic clocks rely upon a standard measurement found within caesium-133. As the only stable isotope of Caesium, the International System of Units (SI) defines the second as the duration of 9,192, 631, 770 cycles of radiation relating to the transition between two energy levels of the caesium-133 atom.

Click to enlarge

That's a lot of technical jargon, but essentially, the most accurate time measurement known to man is all thanks to the element caesium.

Because atomic clocks measure the second on the atomic level, they are the most accurate time measurement tools on the planet. The National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST) is the chief time keeper for the United States, through which much of the world also relies upon. Their current premier clock, the NIST-F2, has been online since 2014. Current evaluations of NIST-F2 place its accuracy at an amazing 300 Million years before it will lose a second. If you've ever synced your computer's clock to internet time, then you may have noticed the time.nist.gov weblink. This is the NIST's website, which helps keep all of our computers, mobile devices and GPS units running accurately. Thanks NIST!

The NIST-F2 Atomic Clock

And there you have it. Atomic clocks keep our technological world running accurately and efficiently. When you look at your smart phone for the time, or map your coordinates on a GPS device, you're employing lasers and atomic physics. Doesn't that feel awesome?!