In an experiment to determine whether or not watching video of the Swiss Alps will make cows do their cow thing in a more efficient way, a Russian farmer

has rigged one side of his shed with 40-inch LCD TVs so that one row of cows can watch footage of the Swiss Alps, where the grass is green and the skies are blue. The cows on the other side are afforded no such diversion.

The farmer is monitoring his cattle to see if the TV-watching cows are more “happy and productive.”

Part of me wants to believe that this will really work, and that the cows will be more content. But another part of me-the evil, cunning part-thinks the farmer would be better off showing the cows pictures of the barn’s most productive animals. There’s nothing more motivating than fear that if you don’t churn out enough product you’re going to end up at the abattoir.

A museum Superbowl wager is fulfilled.

Back during the Summer of Death we noted the passing of James Kirkup, whose poem “The Love that Dares to Speak Its Name,” which “implicitly attributed homosexual acts to Jesus,” resulted in a blasphemous libel charge against the paper that printed it. Now Alan King-Hamilton, the judge whose refusal to allow expert testimony of the merits of the poem made a finding of guilty inevitable, has also expired (at the rather incredible age of 105). What sort of man was he?

He was a devoted advocate of the merits of corporal punishment, once declaring that the best form of psychiatric treatment was administered not to the head but to the backside. The reintroduction of National Service, he claimed, would deter youths from crime, teach them discipline and make men of them. He openly regretted the fact that he was not allowed to shame offenders by putting them in the stocks.

Also, concerning his behavior at the trial:

Judge King-Hamilton went on record in the Observer on the day before the trial opened as being of the opinion that homosexuality was the cause of the fall of the Roman Empire… Judge King-Hamilton made his own views clear from the outset. He actually apologised to the jury for having to ask them even to read the poem. He ingratiated himself with the jury, being very solicitous about their comfort, the room temperature, the availability of coffee, and frequently smiled at them. He was constantly slipping in his own views and prejudices and obvious detestation of the poem in question, thus associating his high office with the prosecution side of the trial.

And now he’s dead.

I wish someone would mash up the magic that is ChartBeat with the magic that is Chat Roulette. Chart Roulette would be: you just get various random websites’ server statistics, one after the next. Chat Beat would be a randomly-selected mp3 sharing service, where you come across people and they send you music and you send them music. These things would make my afternoon brighter.

The meaning of life AND the making of Nick Denton’s fortune, all in one handy advice column. Contains hobbitry.

I’m picking Colorada high-schooler Lolita Respectnothing to go all the way, even though she’s up against X’Vavier Bloodsaw. (via)

Over in Ye Olde Isle of Knifecrime, the new proposed budget by Chancellor of the Exchequer Alistair Darling scraps a tax on houses that cost less than £250K, but taxes by 5% more homes that cost more than £1m. The cap on small business tax relief was raised. Minimum rage (and the wage, too) will go up! The top-earning tax rate is going up 10% (although some moderately lower-earners will be shoved into a higher tax bracket as their income rises slightly). The cigarette tax is mild-just all of 1p above inflation. Apart from the slight uptick in sin taxes-something we’re no stranger to in New York!-it’s, for the most part, a moderately pro-poor budget from the man who put a 50% tax on banker’s bonuses and made a fortune from it. Let’s see, how does this get characterized in the tabloids? “Alistair Darling today shamelessly raided the pockets of Middle England as he unveiled a nakedly political Budget packed with populist pre-election bribes… Now it’s class war!” Oh! That’s just like in America but with funny language!

Once, there was Mechanical Turk, where people in the third world would do data entry for you. And also Google Answers, wherein people would do your homework. But you know what’s going well these days? The Internet will allow you to hire anyone in the world to do simple tasks for $5, thanks to Fiverr, one of the only web startups that has a chance of becoming profitable. And boy is it ever useful! “I will tell you what name or animal you look like for $5.” And! “I will send you a postcard + 10 grams of our purest sand from Mauritius Island for $5.” More tempting: “I will stand on a busy intersection with a sign saying ANYTHING you want for $5.” Annnnnd game over: “ I will proofread/edit your essay for $5…. If you would like me to proofread something longer than 5 pages, I will still read it but it will take me two days.” Thanks for bringing down the already unfathomable bottom price of the word industry, jerkface. You lose by winning!

Time was when vegetarian dudes could be classified in two simple groups: “pussies” and “freaks.” No longer, reports the Boston Globe, noting the growing trend of “men in their 40s and 50s embracing a restrictive lifestyle to look better, rectify a gluttonous past, or cheat death. They are hegans. They are healthy. And they are here to stay.” Let’s leave the whole “hegan” thing aside and focus on these rationales for not eating meat like God intended: looking good and cheating death. They are exactly the same reasons people exercise. And it makes me sick.

Look, I try to be tolerant of lifestyles that are different from my own. I understand that it takes all kinds to make a world. I’m not arrogant enough to imagine that the choices I make are somehow intrinsically better than those made by anyone else. But you people who exercise constantly and eat healthy? I cannot help but look down on you. If you only knew the pity I feel when I step out of a bar at twilight of a Friday night and look across the street to see a bunch of people running on treadmills in some pathetic attempt to live longer or land a mate… it’s absolutely tragic.

I have no idea what kind of terrible narcissism fuels this urge to deny your body’s inevitable — and biologically necessary — decay, but it says something very sad about the level of self-importance you attach to your own corporeal husk that you need to jog for an hour before you head to the office or that you “just can’t start the day right without a quick workout.” YOU ARE GOING TO DIE ANYWAY. You are supposed to die. The human race needs to replenish itself with younger, healthier specimens, and your 45 minutes at Crunch three times a week is just gumming up the works. Again, I don’t want to be too judgmental here, but it probably needs to be said: Your selfishness is worse than even that of people who drive SUVs, because enough of them at least clear out the gene pool in rollover accidents. I’m sorry, constant exerciser, but the next time you look in the mirror — and let’s face it, it’s not going to be too long from right now — I want you to see that person staring back at you. If you can take a second to stop admiring what you see, remind yourself that you are looking at someone whose astounding vanity almost certainly merits inclusion in the DSM. Let yourself go a little. You’re not that special.

“What a charlatan this man is. What a terrible, terrible man he is.”
-San Diego U.S. district judge Irma Gonzalez shared her thoughts on Dr. Phil McGraw yesterday, while sentencing Matthew and Laura Eaton to respective prison sentences of 27 months and one year. The couple went on Dr. Phil’s show in 2008 and boasted about making more than $100,000 selling stolen Legos. They were arrested late last year.