When In The Course of Human Events --- Evolution Happens . . .

Sorry, couldn't resist (it being July 4th and all). But just read this fascinating report about Stephen Hawking's  perspective on human evolution. Short take: it's not all about genetics and yes, we are entering a new age of e-quarius, or at least one in which human evolution/development are more in our control then ever before.

All of which, of course, relates to my ponderings, a few months back, about whether we're living in a new age.

Tip o' the mug to Julian Edward, via Twitter.

Oh, the Power of Twitter; Or, How to Tweet Your Way to the Bestseller List

Forget the e-book, e-readers, the dying word, and all that crap. Here's where the action is: Use Twitter to bash a critic, and bingo! Tons o' free publicity. That, my friends, is the brave new world of publishing. H

ere's the backstory (it's short and sweet): Novelist Alice Hoffman recently published a new novel. A couple of days ago, a reviewer for the Boston Globe panned the book.

(Or so Hoffman believes. Frankly, the review isn't that bad, and at least it's a review, for god's sake. Do you know how hard it is to get a book reviewed? Take my word for it: it's hard. HARD.)

Upon reading the review, Hoffman logged onto her Twitter account and, in a serious of increasingly snarky 140-character messages, proceeded to trash the reviewer (a "moron," according to Hoffman), the Globe, and anything in her line of site. (She also tweeted the reviewer's phone number, a move that was tacky beyond words.)

Unfortunately, you can't read all of the tweets because about 30 hours later, she shut down that Tweet account and  issued a formal apology. (You can read some of them here.)

But  --- and this is the punch line --- the controversy landed her, more or less instantly, in the "Media Decoder" column of the New York Times, whose website's readers number in the millions. All in the space of a few hours.

Sweet! Truly, truly, sweet. I've published three books, and I'm here to tell you that you can't pay for that kind of publicity.

So, okay, maybe I exaggerate a bit. Maybe she won't end up on the bestseller list, but Hoffman is certain to sell a hell of a lot more books than she would have otherwise. (It's worth noting that, as of this writing, 3:31 pm Central Time, her book is ranked 489 at Amazon.)

(Not, mind you, that Amazon numbers are a pure indicator of sales, but a number that low means the book is definitely moving.)

Friends, I have seen the future of publishing and it tweets, man, it tweets. I'm already composing my 140-character snark attack. I'll launch it when my next book comes out.

Daydreaming = Productivity (But You Knew That, Right?)

Quickie drive-by posting before I get back to the complexities of meat. The Wall Street Journal has a fascinating piece about new research into how we experience "aha!" moments of insight. (The article carries today's date, but it wasn't in today's print edition, so it may be in tomorrow's "paper.")

The reporter interviewed a number of neuroscientists and other researchers who are studying how the brain makes connections and solves "problems." The general drift is that

Taken together, these findings highlight a paradox of mental life. They remind us that much of our creative thought is the product of neurons and nerve chemistry outside our awareness and beyond our direct control.

Several points worth noting. First, one of the interviewees defines the "aha!" moment as including the usual suspects: Waking up with the solution to a problem that's been bugging you. Driving down the street thinking about "nothing" and suddenly solving a problem. Etc. But the "problem" can also be something you don't yet recognize as a problem, including

realizing that a friend of yours is not really a friend.

I'm glad to know that because I experienced precisely just that kind of moment a couple of years ago. There was no triggering "episode." Indeed, my flash of awareness came in the middle of an otherwise pleasant visit with a group of  friends. We were all just sitting around talking and suddenly, wham!, I realized that one of them was not only not a friend but was using me in a nearly malevolent way. (I know; I know. How could I NOT know such a thing?)

Anyway, the article also confirms what I've known for years: I do my best work when I'm not trying. Eg, when I'm walking, daydreaming, laying on the floor staring at the ceiling, thinking about "nothing."

All of my book ideas, for example, have come to me in flashes from nowhere. So. Enough from me. Go read the article!

Tip o' the mug to Jennifer Gilmore, via Twitter (@jenwgilmore). I loved Jennifer's first novel, Golden Country, and am looking forward to her next one, which I hope will be out soon.

Want To Buy A Brewery?

You can! For a small fee (really, it's small). And it's only sort of a brewery. A few days ago, I got an email from Todd Kimmell, who owns what he believes is the oldest brewery structure in the United States, a building that dates from the late 1600s. Here's a chunk of the email he sent me, which includes links to more information, including a real estate listing (the place is for sale). (Yes, think of me as your multiple-listing agent):

In the late 70s and 80s, a New Jersey historian named Dr. Henry Bisbee plotted out the grounds of the first governor of West Jersey's late 1600s mansion, including his various outbuildings and neighbors, near the Delaware River in Burlington, NJ.

He had the help of civil engineers and other historians, and used old photos, drawings, written descriptions, and especially deed surveys from 1745.

The only remaining building from the 1600s was the brew house, which had been doubled in size and turned into a domicile about 1770, and added onto further approximately 1850-1870.

The brew house, known locally as Ivy Cottage is oddly situated and oddly shaped... only if you look at it as a Georgian home. As an outbuilding from the late 1600s, it is neither oddly shaped nor oddly situated. It makes perfect sense.

My wife and I bought the place because it was an oddball Georgian home near the river, and we could watch people along the Promenade and boats on the Delaware River from our second floor bedroom.

When I pulled the ceiling down in the dining room, I found construction techniques and materials that I'd never seen before.

I'd grown up in Squire Cheyney's 1740s house in Cheyney, PA, and had been in and out of renovations and restorations of similar structures my whole life.

This was different. Broad boards hit with an ax and spread apart, then nailed up to sizeable beams with very large, very early nails. Then, the whole thing was mucked with a thick coat of plaster. I knew [builders had] mastered horse-powered or people-powered lath, skinny lath, pretty early, so this had to be WAY early.

He goes on to say that after more demolition, he and his wife discovered that

more of the house clearly showed the drastically different construction methods and materials between the late 1600s brew house and the mid 1700s Georgian home built up, over and around it.

I believe this makes Ivy Cottage the oldest brewery in America. Jamestown might have post holes identified as where the brewery might have been, and our beloved Yuengling will always be the oldest continually brewing brewery, but it is a comparative snot nosed kid next to Ivy Cottage.

More information (including the real estate listing): By the way, I have NO idea if this really is the oldest standing brewhouse in the country, but hey, it sounds good!

A Guy After My Own (Fat) Heart

"Fat" is so unhip. So so so unhip. Just like me. That's not why I like fat. (After all, what's the point of trying to be unhip? The minute you try, you're not, if you know what I mean.)

I like fat because fat is good. Good for you; good to eat. Sounds weird, eh? Especially in these don't-eat-that-it'll-kill-you days. But the human body wants and needs fat. Just like it wants and needs cholesterol.

Of course what it wants/needs is REAL fat and cholesterol, not the fake shit that'll kill you. And which does not taste good.

So I'm delighted to find a kindred spirit in the form of Zachary Cohen, who urges us all to eat more fat. Plus, his blog is one of those only-in-the-age-of-the-internet things: a blog devoted to the "emerging American meal."

Although to be precise, the blog is itself a spinoff of a television program Zachary is producing, "Farm to Table." Good stuff all around (especially for me, who am spending much of my time thinking about American food, albeit in a historical perspective). Give it a look.