It seems the Mars Phoenix lander (or at least some NASA public relations intern) has a Twitter account. You can follow along (almost live) with the progress of the mission. It’s written in the first person as if it were some Disney cartoon robot. The age of interplanetary social media has begun. Intergalactic Web 3.0 is surely around the corner.

I’d heard that the moon is a harsh mistress. Apparently Mars can’t shut up.

PS Do you know why Darth Vader can’t drink milk? (Answer posted at some point in the comments if no one beats me to it)

Can I take Charlton Heston’s guns from his cold dead hands yet? It’s been a couple days, he should be good and cold.

And if you think I’m crossing a line here, take your indignance and spend just a minute thinking of the awful toll that the torrent of easily accessible guns takes on our country. Moses wouldn’t tolerate such a scourge on the poor. Or… you know. the killing…

Remember Mitt Romney’s gaff on the campaign trail? Sorry – let me narrow that down for you…

Do you remember when Mitt replied to a reporter’s question on why none of his five sons were in the military service of their country? He said that they were doing their patronizing patriotic duty of helping their country by serving his campaign for the presidency.

Let’s chalk up the political idiocy of that statement to too-tight magic underpants. But it begs the question…

Romney’s campaign is done. According to General Petraeus, troop withdrawls are to be frozen. Our military is, even now by its own admission, strained under the load of fighting two wars. Why can’t they serve now?

Leave all the legitimate reasons that Jacoby Ellsbury should be starting in center field aside. Don’t think about his superior offense, his need for at bats, or the fact that Crisp is trade bait walking. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about Crisp’s anemic on base percentage either.

Tonight the Red Sox have the perfect opportunity to make a decision based on their new dogma, Marketing. Why is this night different from any other night? Wait for it… it’s Native American Night at Fenway. Yes Jerry Phlemy has informed his loyal accolytes that tonight the Red Sox are honoring Native Americans and they’ve got their own version of a reservation for their own Native American – The Bench.

If they’re not working off of stats or baseball insight, and they’re not working off of marketing, what in the hell are they thinking? Could someone explain this to me?

Go ahead and say Coco’s defense… See if you can do it with a straight face.

Memo to modern day directors: Get a fucking dolly already!

Ok. I feel better.

&*#$%#@)

Tiki Barber is living up to his name. Come on Tiki – Fade away for a while, then return as a commentator we can respect and remember well.

Breaking with my theme of selfish whining, I offer the following recipe for soup (first rate of course) from my mom. Perhaps with some readership, she might share others.

This soup is best made at the end of August, when cranberry beans are in the farmer's markets:

• 2 lbs fresh cranberry beans, shelled (yielding 3 cups)
• 1/2 lb bacon, cut into 1 inch pieces
• 2 cups onion, diced
• 2 cups celery, diced
• 2 small (14oz) cans chicken stock
• 1 small can diced tomato, drained
• 1 cup Orecchiette (or other pasta)

1. In a stockpot over medium heat, carefully render out all the fat from the bacon. Remove the browned bacon bits and set aside.
2. Add onion, celery and sweat until translucent.
3. Add the beans, cooked bacon, 8 cups of water and chicken stock. Once a boil is reached, lower heat to maintain a simmer for roughly 75 to 90 minutes or until the beans are tender.
4. Add tomato and orecchiette and cook until tender, stirring occasionally so the pasta doesn't stick to the bottom and burn. This may require additional water as the soup thickens.
5. Salt and pepper to taste at the end.

Considering the litany of inane talking heads in the world of sports commentary and the general level of discourse (enough for a toddler to drown in, but seemingly not much more), I figure I may as well add my own thoughts to the Barry Bonds imbroglio.

Here’s my suggestion for how we as baseball fans should react when he hits No. 756:

Stop calling him Barry. If he’s taking a beloved record by dubious means, why should we even call him by name.

Now, what should we use instead? How about:

*

Let him and everyone else know that in our minds, Hank Aaron is still the king of the longball. For those of you who say that nothing has been proven, you’re right. He deserves all the due process that our legal system provides… as far as the alleged criminal activities are concerned.

But based on his silence in response to the countless allegations of cheating, in my opinion, he deserves to be shamed.

It’d be great to see this (a giant lone asterisk) on fan’s signs around the ballpark as he hits the last one out, but that’s probably wishful thinking.

Hung out with a bunch of folks this weekend, iPods orbiting through speaker cradles and cars.

It’s clear. A curated playlist is far superior to a straight shuffle. Playlists express the DJ’s ideas on how the works interact. Shuffle offers surprise, but nearly always jars the listener with out of place tracks.

Sure shuffle has its place. It’s fun to see what it might find next, play guess that song on long trips, but too often it flails across genre, media type (podcasts?), etc.

I found this rather neat: Why your shower curtains curves inward

You know you work in Cambridge when…

You pass by the security guard in your building and his web browser is pointed to www.haaretz.com (the left-leaning Israeli newspaper). Oy…

It’s never easy to deal with the death of a friend. We can so easily become consumed with emotion when losing those close to us. Still, it seems a cosmic injustice has been delivered with the senseless and premature passing of Corinne Crawford.

Not only did she possess one of the finest minds of our generation, a gift she applied with great fervor and curiosity, but she was the rarer soul for applying it toward the common good. Whether her insight was brightening a classroom, whether she was biking, hiking or marching, cooking, writing or teaching, she shared herself fully with those around her. We are left in awe of her spirit.

She was engaging, yet shy, outspoken, yet considerate, a citizen of broader society and of every small place she traveled. She reveled in the past and lived in the present. She died too too soon.

I miss her greatly. Rest in peace Corinne.

I really hadn’t intended this to be a baseball blog or even a sports blog, and that intent remains. Still…

On a night where the Sox took a second straight game from the Indians

The Yankees drop to 14.5 games back when their only consistent pitcher on the season has home plate stolen out from under him

and The Mets pull a come from behind twelfth-inning win from the Giants on not one but TWO balks from Armando Benitez and a subsequent walkoff homerun from Carlos Delgado (his second of the game).

Life is Good. Much more to come. – reub

First Rate Soup will be coming soon. Stay tuned…