oh. my. god. Holy shit I don't think that I'd be that into this...
This is amazing too.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Reason #1,642 why many pro climbers are idiots...
"I love rock climbing, but I don't like rock climbers" - a rep for a climbing company.
I've often thought how some pro climbers are lucky that they are good at rock climbing, because they generally suck at most other things...such as...social skills.
Below is a story that my friend James wrote. When I heard about this I was kind of pissed. I get my panties in a twist when I think about the culture of valley rock climbers. It's a ton of dick-waving and senseless risk-taking. Don't these people have mothers or people who care about them? Don't they care about anybody else but themselves? Ostensibly, no. It's like Lord of the Flies + neglected little boys acting out for attention + testosterone-fest. It's one thing to have your acting-out phase and do mildly stupid shit, it's another altogether to never grow out of it and put other people at risk. Sad.
As I get older I have less and less tolerance for this sort of thing. I think that the climbing culture (and society at large) gives people the "personality pass" as Shannon calls it. For some reason, if you climb hard (or you are beautiful or famous), you can be a dick and people still think you're cool. If there's any proof that evolution - cultural or otherwise - is not progressive, this is it.
James took it down, so I'm posting it here, with the exchange between James and Cedar at the bottom. Nobody gives a shit what I say or reads this, so why not? Idiots.
Oscar Wilde wrote, “A true friend stabs you in the front.” Stanley should have seen it coming. If he didn’t die on El Cap, he might actually kill Cedar in retaliation.
Over a decade ago, Cedar studied for his undergraduate degree at Humboldt State. Sean “Stanley” Leary tried to attend school in the Nor Cal but ended up at the crag more often than the classroom. They met each other while bouldering on Moon Stone Beach. They were young. They were inexperienced. It had all the makings of a perfect bromance.
For years the pair climbed together. They established routes at the Trinity Aretes, a limestone crag an hour and a half to the east of Humboldt State. They climbed routes in Yosemite together, they smoked weed together, and they were friends.
Then Cedar got sponsored. Cedar earned the nickname “Magoo” because of his oversized Buddy Holly glasses and his inexplicable ability to be in the right place at the right time. The North Face wanted to expand their athlete program and Cedar happened to be hanging at the office with Jason “Singer” Smith right when they were looking. Magoo stumbled into a spot with the team. One of Cedar’s best abilities is to talk a mean game, a highly desired skill by the marketing types at big outdoor companies. Slanderously known in his “hometown” crag of Yosemite as the “world’s best 5.11 climber” many people were jealous of Cedar’s new lifestyle. He worked as the rock climbing media persona for the North Face, representing the company at slide shows, in the magazines, and on a daily basis. Cedar became a personal brand, traveling across the world on various exotic climbing trips to promote the North Face.
While Cedar traveled and got pictured on big billboards, Stanley rock climbed and became on of the dominate forces in Yosemite free climbing. With a free link-up ascent of El Capitan and Half Dome in a day, three El Cap routes in a day, and numerous hard free climbs, Stanley was the best unrecognized climber around. Stanley just needed someone to help usher him into the world of sponsorship.
Cedar arrived in Yosemite after in the late summer after a 4 month hiatus. He’d been in Australia, Brazil, or somewhere warm with hot chicks and lots of good sport climbing on the North Face’s dime. The Yosemite Facelift was a perfect opportunity to come back to the Valley, promote the North Face during the annual clean up, and spend some quality time with his friends.
“Here dudely,” Cedar shoved his glasses up his face and handed the rack to Stanley. “I got all the gear.”
Stanley appraised the thin selection of gear below the notorious offwidth of Ahab (5.10b) at the base of El Capitan. “This is the biggest piece I need?” He held up a #4 camalot. Even from the ground, it looked like it wouldn’t fit. Lucho, Dean “Bullwinkle” Fidelman, and I all shook our heads.
“I’m gonna make you famous Stanley! It’ll be great.” Cedar jugged up a fixed line next to Ahab while Stanley pulled his shoes on. Cedar imagined Stanley was gonna shit himself from the obvious sandbag. As a matter of fact, the last time Cedar had made a “great” movie was when he conned a young Canadian into climbing a heinous offwidth. The hung over Canuck got his knee stuck half way up the route and shit himself. Cedar’s movie about the ordeal went viral on the internet, securing his status as a North Face celebrity.
Stanley seemed less than enthused about the prospect of climbing the route with no or marginal gear. The day before, he had climbed the Nose of El Capitan in sub 4 hours. Needless to say he was worked, but he also wanted to help Cedar out. And there was the prospect that Stanley’s impressive climbing abilities might garner him some recognition. Stanley laybacked up the offwidth, smearing his feet on the smooth glacier polished granite. He threw a kneebar into the crack, and tried to stick his one big cam in. It was a sausage in a hallway.
Stanley's section is at 2:30. There's a cam at the base of the crack that would only help him if he was pysched on smashing into the rock below instead of falling another 5 feet to the deck.
Cedar hung off a rope nearby videotaping Stanley for a short film. “You can get it in if you go five feet higher,” Cedar said. Stanley trusted his friend and moved up the crack. He pulled the camalot out again. At forty feet off the ground, with his feet sliding down the rock, Stanley would die if he fell without getting the cam in. When he tried to place the pro in, it was again a sausage in a hallway.
“I am going to FUCKING KILL YOU CEDAR!” Stanley screamed.
“Stanley’s gonna die,” I yelled.
Dean Fidelman, who’s biting wit is unfailing, could only say, “Oh my god!”
Lucho flicked Stanley’s rope. He was belaying for no reason. He shrugged.
“Cedar, you have to save Stanley!” I shouted.
Mason Earle had been scowering the base for booty, cleaning up as part of the Facelift, and watching the junk show. “I can’t stay. This is gonna make me sick,” he said.
“Hang on dude,” Cedar put away his camera gear. “I’ll save you.” He dropped the rope he was hanging from and flicked it towards Stanley. Stanley’s knees bent, and he made a four foot horizontal jump to the thin line, swinging across the base of El Cap. Cedar bounced against the top part of the wall, jostling about with all his camera gear. When Stanley reached a small stance on Moby Dick, he attached his rappel device and headed back to the ground, visibly shaken.
“Did you guys see that?” Cedar came down to the ground. Stanley had mentally drifted to another plane. A small lizard found its way onto his hand and Stanley stared at the gecko, oblivious to Cedar and the trauma. Happy place for Stanley. “I saved Stanley’s life!” Cedar’s chest swelled three inches.
We gathered all our gear and headed to the Cathedrals to go bouldering. I shook my head, wondering if these guys were really friends or if they had just grown up together.
Cedar writes:
This piece had potential but reads like a rough draft, and isn't really based in any kind of factual reality.... And it's kind of slanderous... But it's your party....Next time you want to write about me... do me the favor of sending me a draft first....
James Writes
Cedar- It's something I just wanted to write on my blog- not something that'd be good for anything more than that. It is based on factual reality. I was there. Lucho was there. Fidelman and Stanely were both there. Stanley got all pissed about you not using that footage of him on the route. I'm sorry for not being considerate. I can take it down, if you read it and get back to me on it.
Cedar responds:
Just take it down.
Look James... I worked my ass off to get where I'm at, and I resent you harping on this "His best skill was spraying" theme.... I payed my dues a lot more than you have and the way I see it you are in no place to be calling me out time an again on this shit..... It pisses me off and you aren't doing me or yourself any favors... got it? I had my proud moments, give me a little respect....Or Just leave out of your poorly written drivel.
Cedar’s best abilities is to talk a mean game, a highly desired skill by the marketing types at big outdoor companies. Slanderously known in his “hometown” crag of Yosemite as the “world’s best 5.11 climber”
James writes:I took it down
I've often thought how some pro climbers are lucky that they are good at rock climbing, because they generally suck at most other things...such as...social skills.
Below is a story that my friend James wrote. When I heard about this I was kind of pissed. I get my panties in a twist when I think about the culture of valley rock climbers. It's a ton of dick-waving and senseless risk-taking. Don't these people have mothers or people who care about them? Don't they care about anybody else but themselves? Ostensibly, no. It's like Lord of the Flies + neglected little boys acting out for attention + testosterone-fest. It's one thing to have your acting-out phase and do mildly stupid shit, it's another altogether to never grow out of it and put other people at risk. Sad.
As I get older I have less and less tolerance for this sort of thing. I think that the climbing culture (and society at large) gives people the "personality pass" as Shannon calls it. For some reason, if you climb hard (or you are beautiful or famous), you can be a dick and people still think you're cool. If there's any proof that evolution - cultural or otherwise - is not progressive, this is it.
James took it down, so I'm posting it here, with the exchange between James and Cedar at the bottom. Nobody gives a shit what I say or reads this, so why not? Idiots.
Oscar Wilde wrote, “A true friend stabs you in the front.” Stanley should have seen it coming. If he didn’t die on El Cap, he might actually kill Cedar in retaliation.
Over a decade ago, Cedar studied for his undergraduate degree at Humboldt State. Sean “Stanley” Leary tried to attend school in the Nor Cal but ended up at the crag more often than the classroom. They met each other while bouldering on Moon Stone Beach. They were young. They were inexperienced. It had all the makings of a perfect bromance.
For years the pair climbed together. They established routes at the Trinity Aretes, a limestone crag an hour and a half to the east of Humboldt State. They climbed routes in Yosemite together, they smoked weed together, and they were friends.
Then Cedar got sponsored. Cedar earned the nickname “Magoo” because of his oversized Buddy Holly glasses and his inexplicable ability to be in the right place at the right time. The North Face wanted to expand their athlete program and Cedar happened to be hanging at the office with Jason “Singer” Smith right when they were looking. Magoo stumbled into a spot with the team. One of Cedar’s best abilities is to talk a mean game, a highly desired skill by the marketing types at big outdoor companies. Slanderously known in his “hometown” crag of Yosemite as the “world’s best 5.11 climber” many people were jealous of Cedar’s new lifestyle. He worked as the rock climbing media persona for the North Face, representing the company at slide shows, in the magazines, and on a daily basis. Cedar became a personal brand, traveling across the world on various exotic climbing trips to promote the North Face.
While Cedar traveled and got pictured on big billboards, Stanley rock climbed and became on of the dominate forces in Yosemite free climbing. With a free link-up ascent of El Capitan and Half Dome in a day, three El Cap routes in a day, and numerous hard free climbs, Stanley was the best unrecognized climber around. Stanley just needed someone to help usher him into the world of sponsorship.
Cedar arrived in Yosemite after in the late summer after a 4 month hiatus. He’d been in Australia, Brazil, or somewhere warm with hot chicks and lots of good sport climbing on the North Face’s dime. The Yosemite Facelift was a perfect opportunity to come back to the Valley, promote the North Face during the annual clean up, and spend some quality time with his friends.
“Here dudely,” Cedar shoved his glasses up his face and handed the rack to Stanley. “I got all the gear.”
Stanley appraised the thin selection of gear below the notorious offwidth of Ahab (5.10b) at the base of El Capitan. “This is the biggest piece I need?” He held up a #4 camalot. Even from the ground, it looked like it wouldn’t fit. Lucho, Dean “Bullwinkle” Fidelman, and I all shook our heads.
“I’m gonna make you famous Stanley! It’ll be great.” Cedar jugged up a fixed line next to Ahab while Stanley pulled his shoes on. Cedar imagined Stanley was gonna shit himself from the obvious sandbag. As a matter of fact, the last time Cedar had made a “great” movie was when he conned a young Canadian into climbing a heinous offwidth. The hung over Canuck got his knee stuck half way up the route and shit himself. Cedar’s movie about the ordeal went viral on the internet, securing his status as a North Face celebrity.
Stanley seemed less than enthused about the prospect of climbing the route with no or marginal gear. The day before, he had climbed the Nose of El Capitan in sub 4 hours. Needless to say he was worked, but he also wanted to help Cedar out. And there was the prospect that Stanley’s impressive climbing abilities might garner him some recognition. Stanley laybacked up the offwidth, smearing his feet on the smooth glacier polished granite. He threw a kneebar into the crack, and tried to stick his one big cam in. It was a sausage in a hallway.
Stanley's section is at 2:30. There's a cam at the base of the crack that would only help him if he was pysched on smashing into the rock below instead of falling another 5 feet to the deck.
Cedar hung off a rope nearby videotaping Stanley for a short film. “You can get it in if you go five feet higher,” Cedar said. Stanley trusted his friend and moved up the crack. He pulled the camalot out again. At forty feet off the ground, with his feet sliding down the rock, Stanley would die if he fell without getting the cam in. When he tried to place the pro in, it was again a sausage in a hallway.
“I am going to FUCKING KILL YOU CEDAR!” Stanley screamed.
“Stanley’s gonna die,” I yelled.
Dean Fidelman, who’s biting wit is unfailing, could only say, “Oh my god!”
Lucho flicked Stanley’s rope. He was belaying for no reason. He shrugged.
“Cedar, you have to save Stanley!” I shouted.
Mason Earle had been scowering the base for booty, cleaning up as part of the Facelift, and watching the junk show. “I can’t stay. This is gonna make me sick,” he said.
“Hang on dude,” Cedar put away his camera gear. “I’ll save you.” He dropped the rope he was hanging from and flicked it towards Stanley. Stanley’s knees bent, and he made a four foot horizontal jump to the thin line, swinging across the base of El Cap. Cedar bounced against the top part of the wall, jostling about with all his camera gear. When Stanley reached a small stance on Moby Dick, he attached his rappel device and headed back to the ground, visibly shaken.
“Did you guys see that?” Cedar came down to the ground. Stanley had mentally drifted to another plane. A small lizard found its way onto his hand and Stanley stared at the gecko, oblivious to Cedar and the trauma. Happy place for Stanley. “I saved Stanley’s life!” Cedar’s chest swelled three inches.
We gathered all our gear and headed to the Cathedrals to go bouldering. I shook my head, wondering if these guys were really friends or if they had just grown up together.
Cedar writes:
This piece had potential but reads like a rough draft, and isn't really based in any kind of factual reality.... And it's kind of slanderous... But it's your party....Next time you want to write about me... do me the favor of sending me a draft first....
James Writes
Cedar- It's something I just wanted to write on my blog- not something that'd be good for anything more than that. It is based on factual reality. I was there. Lucho was there. Fidelman and Stanely were both there. Stanley got all pissed about you not using that footage of him on the route. I'm sorry for not being considerate. I can take it down, if you read it and get back to me on it.
Cedar responds:
Just take it down.
Look James... I worked my ass off to get where I'm at, and I resent you harping on this "His best skill was spraying" theme.... I payed my dues a lot more than you have and the way I see it you are in no place to be calling me out time an again on this shit..... It pisses me off and you aren't doing me or yourself any favors... got it? I had my proud moments, give me a little respect....Or Just leave out of your poorly written drivel.
Cedar’s best abilities is to talk a mean game, a highly desired skill by the marketing types at big outdoor companies. Slanderously known in his “hometown” crag of Yosemite as the “world’s best 5.11 climber”
James writes:I took it down
Friday, February 25, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Too much to do.
Okay I gotta rant here about all the crap I need to do right now. Maybe writing about it will get my shit organized.
1. First of all I reviewed a manuscript and I have to formally enter my (our) comments into the Journal database.
2. I have revisions of my manuscript (we already submitted with major revisions, now there are minor revisions). This is going to involve MORE data analysis and calculating statistical crap that I don't have a good handle on.
3. I'm supposed to be training an undergrad to do some of my labwork for me...so I need to organize a time to meet with her and then be there to train her.
4. I'm taking a science writing class and need to write final drafts of a feature article and a press release. I don't like the press release. I want to quit it.
5. I need to do my taxes and submit my FAFSA. Annoying.
6. I need to finish up a final draft of the recovery plan and 2 five year reviews for my USFWS job before I go to Europe. This means dealing with people. People slow the process down.
7a. I'm STILL collecting data and troubleshooting my phylogenetics project, and I'm going to need to either get out into the field or get researchers from other universities (Oregon and Colorado) to send me samples that I don't have. Totally annoying.
7b. AND apparently the sequencing company picked up a plate today that I set up yesterday, and they don't understand what is where, which means I probably fucked it up somehow, but I'm out of DNA so I either they run it and I get lucky, or they run it and it fails, and then I need to do the stupid PCR, gel running and extraction ALL OVER AGAIN, which takes a full day.
8. I need to LEARN how to manipulate all of this fucking data. What if, in the end, I don't have enough and it was all a waste of time? What if I don't have enough loci? Do I need another gene region? FUUUUuuucckckkcck. I'm meeting with someone tomorrow afternoon to get some help.
9. I need to apply for this part-time lecturer position at Sac State.
10. I need to apply for a travel award to go to AFS in Seattle in September.
11. One of the populations for my pupfish project is unusable because we may have sampled individuals twice. My collaborator says "oh, but you'll know if you genotype the same individual, right?" I theory, but not in a SUPER INBRED FUCKING POPULATION. Some fish have the EXACT same genotype. Resampling JACKS up the statistics. So we need to get out there and start from scratch with this population and throw out the old samples and all the data that I collecgted from them.
But these fish are DORMANT in the WINTER. Balls.
12. My house is a disaster area. I need clean clothes. I need new socks.
13. At some point, I need to FUCKING GRADUATE. And deal with my parents and possibly my grandma and uncle who are going to have no clue about what to do for graduation weekend. Please please please don't make me be a tour guide.
All this after going all day on Tuesday from cross training from 7-8am to Sacramento to work for 4 hours, then back to campus to attend a class. Then spending 10 hours in the lab yesterday, then waking up today at 5:30am to go to Sac for a X-training class, then coming back to campus for a meeting to discuss a manuscript, and then driving to the Farm in Putah Creek to do a SLEWS field day and lay irrigation lining with some highschool students. We got rained on.
Okay now I'm going to go over this list and italicize the things that I need to do before the end of the weekend. That seems somewhat more manageable.
Must triage. must triage.
What I REALLY want to do is keep eating spoonfuls of peanut butter and chocolate chips. Doesn't that sound way better?
1. First of all I reviewed a manuscript and I have to formally enter my (our) comments into the Journal database.
2. I have revisions of my manuscript (we already submitted with major revisions, now there are minor revisions). This is going to involve MORE data analysis and calculating statistical crap that I don't have a good handle on.
3. I'm supposed to be training an undergrad to do some of my labwork for me...so I need to organize a time to meet with her and then be there to train her.
4. I'm taking a science writing class and need to write final drafts of a feature article and a press release. I don't like the press release. I want to quit it.
5. I need to do my taxes and submit my FAFSA. Annoying.
6. I need to finish up a final draft of the recovery plan and 2 five year reviews for my USFWS job before I go to Europe. This means dealing with people. People slow the process down.
7a. I'm STILL collecting data and troubleshooting my phylogenetics project, and I'm going to need to either get out into the field or get researchers from other universities (Oregon and Colorado) to send me samples that I don't have. Totally annoying.
7b. AND apparently the sequencing company picked up a plate today that I set up yesterday, and they don't understand what is where, which means I probably fucked it up somehow, but I'm out of DNA so I either they run it and I get lucky, or they run it and it fails, and then I need to do the stupid PCR, gel running and extraction ALL OVER AGAIN, which takes a full day.
8. I need to LEARN how to manipulate all of this fucking data. What if, in the end, I don't have enough and it was all a waste of time? What if I don't have enough loci? Do I need another gene region? FUUUUuuucckckkcck. I'm meeting with someone tomorrow afternoon to get some help.
9. I need to apply for this part-time lecturer position at Sac State.
10. I need to apply for a travel award to go to AFS in Seattle in September.
11. One of the populations for my pupfish project is unusable because we may have sampled individuals twice. My collaborator says "oh, but you'll know if you genotype the same individual, right?" I theory, but not in a SUPER INBRED FUCKING POPULATION. Some fish have the EXACT same genotype. Resampling JACKS up the statistics. So we need to get out there and start from scratch with this population and throw out the old samples and all the data that I collecgted from them.
But these fish are DORMANT in the WINTER. Balls.
12. My house is a disaster area. I need clean clothes. I need new socks.
13. At some point, I need to FUCKING GRADUATE. And deal with my parents and possibly my grandma and uncle who are going to have no clue about what to do for graduation weekend. Please please please don't make me be a tour guide.
All this after going all day on Tuesday from cross training from 7-8am to Sacramento to work for 4 hours, then back to campus to attend a class. Then spending 10 hours in the lab yesterday, then waking up today at 5:30am to go to Sac for a X-training class, then coming back to campus for a meeting to discuss a manuscript, and then driving to the Farm in Putah Creek to do a SLEWS field day and lay irrigation lining with some highschool students. We got rained on.
Okay now I'm going to go over this list and italicize the things that I need to do before the end of the weekend. That seems somewhat more manageable.
Must triage. must triage.
What I REALLY want to do is keep eating spoonfuls of peanut butter and chocolate chips. Doesn't that sound way better?
Monday, February 21, 2011
Fun in SF
The weather did not cooperate this weekend, so whenever Jailhouse is out I struggle with a motivation problem when it comes to climbing. I hadn't climbed on plastic in a month or so, but Ethan was game for meeting me at Ironworks. We spent a few hours there (I sucked, but in hindsight I did a dozen pitches, which isn't so bad). I should be training for Europe, but I'm so unmotivated. It's cold and stuff.
Dinner was in The Richmond at a friend's house, and Jason C. and Caitlin were there, which was cool. I miss Jason on gchat - he is hilarious. So so funny and quick-witted. He really should blog more for everyone's benefit.
The next day we went to Boogaloo's which is a pretty good breakfast spot. I would not recommend anything with the plantain cake. I had high hopes, but was not impressed. Everything else was good though. Because finally the weather was amazing, we hiked up to Twin Peaks. I really love San Francisco. It is such a cool city - there are so many hidden little areas. I always think of it as a busy place, but when you go up towards the top of the hill there are really quiet neighborhoods. The plants are out of control too. Just about everything grows in SF.
On the way down we checked out an amazing chocolate shop. The guy was friendly and helpful, and the chocolate was amazing. I definitely need to go back some time. Don't know when.
I also found some bergamot oranges, seville oranges and blood oranges at the Berkeley Bowl West, so I'm psyched to try out some recipes with them.
So that was my weekend in the city. A mini-vacation. I managed to avoid all the mountain traffic THANK GOD.
I haven't had a good rant in a while, but I've been thinking about the issue of exes trying to be friends with each other. More specifically, when the exes were total douchebags and then try to manipulate/guilt trip the douche-bagees into being their friend so that they don't have to feel like douchebag. A friend of mine is experiencing that right now, and I've experience it as well. The way I see it, it's because the douchebag doesn't want to feel like an asshole, so if the person to whom they were a douchebag forgives them, all is right. It's such bullshit. If you are an asshole, you should feel like an asshole. And if you don't like feeling like an asshole, then don't be one. It's pretty simple. Quit trying to get your ex to forgive you so that you can salve your own ego. Even if they do forgive you, you are still an asshole, and an even bigger one than you were before.
Dinner was in The Richmond at a friend's house, and Jason C. and Caitlin were there, which was cool. I miss Jason on gchat - he is hilarious. So so funny and quick-witted. He really should blog more for everyone's benefit.
The next day we went to Boogaloo's which is a pretty good breakfast spot. I would not recommend anything with the plantain cake. I had high hopes, but was not impressed. Everything else was good though. Because finally the weather was amazing, we hiked up to Twin Peaks. I really love San Francisco. It is such a cool city - there are so many hidden little areas. I always think of it as a busy place, but when you go up towards the top of the hill there are really quiet neighborhoods. The plants are out of control too. Just about everything grows in SF.
On the way down we checked out an amazing chocolate shop. The guy was friendly and helpful, and the chocolate was amazing. I definitely need to go back some time. Don't know when.
I also found some bergamot oranges, seville oranges and blood oranges at the Berkeley Bowl West, so I'm psyched to try out some recipes with them.
So that was my weekend in the city. A mini-vacation. I managed to avoid all the mountain traffic THANK GOD.
I haven't had a good rant in a while, but I've been thinking about the issue of exes trying to be friends with each other. More specifically, when the exes were total douchebags and then try to manipulate/guilt trip the douche-bagees into being their friend so that they don't have to feel like douchebag. A friend of mine is experiencing that right now, and I've experience it as well. The way I see it, it's because the douchebag doesn't want to feel like an asshole, so if the person to whom they were a douchebag forgives them, all is right. It's such bullshit. If you are an asshole, you should feel like an asshole. And if you don't like feeling like an asshole, then don't be one. It's pretty simple. Quit trying to get your ex to forgive you so that you can salve your own ego. Even if they do forgive you, you are still an asshole, and an even bigger one than you were before.
Friday, February 18, 2011
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