Aaron Williamson's webl

While even we lesser lights among usage snobs know that swapping “utilize” willy-nilly for “use” is wrong, no one ever told me why.  The subject came up tonight when I was editing a cover letter for Carly, so I took the opportunity to utilize the google and educate myself.  It seems “Utilize” means “turn to practical use or account” and specifically to “make do with something not normally used for the purpose.” So while you might utilize watchmaker’s tins to make a spice rack, you would use a dictionary to look up “utilize.”¹

The predictable rejoinder of overutilizers is that the words share at least one dictionary definition (“to make use of”), so they can be used interchangably.  To which I reply that you can utilize a toilet as a punchbowl.  But I’d really prefer that you didn’t.

1. Unless you had an MBA. [↩]

I think I’m going with the angry, inexperienced black guy. I can just never tell where that affable white gentleman stands — is he a hero, or a maverick? You can’t ride the fence forever, McCain!

Thanks, CBS!

In a successful bid to horrify myself, I ran my favorite Chipotle order through the Chipotle Nutrition Facts Calculator.  No wonder I’m so thirsty!  And… fibrous!

When Coors Brewing Company introduced the first of its recent questionable innovations in beer canning technology, the Frost Brew Liner, I admit I was charmed. Does a thin layer of plastic inside my can really lock in the Rocky Mountain freshness? I don’t know, but the child within cries Yes! And what’s more, the vaguely Web 2.0 infograms on the can made it feel like science.

But Coors: like the extra-wide easy-pour opening on a can of your cool, refreshing Coors Light, the credulity of this Rockies-tapper extends only so far. Guys, this vent thing is just not believable. I even gave you the benefit of the doubt when i saw the first commercial — I thought “maybe an internal straw-like apparatus extends from the mouth of the can to air in the interior, to prevent a vacuum from forming and allow the crisp, frost-brewed lager to pour smoothly forth.” Now, I didn’t think for a second that it would work, but as with the frost brew liner, that explanation would have at least left some question in my mind.

But ever the cultural reverse engineer, I took a can opener to your bold new design, and the truth was far lamer than the pseudoscience I invented for you. Look at this thing:

Coors Light Vented Wide Mouth Can

It’s not that easy to see from the picture, but basically the vaunted “vent” is much closer to a “dent” — a shallow canal running outward from the mouth about 3/4 of an inch. What could this possibly accomplish? It’s exerts no more influence on my pour than the unpredictable deformations that inevitably result from merely opening the can. It is a nothing.

For shame, Coors. I fear the integrity of your practice of the beer-related sciences has fallen victim to Madison Avenue’s siren song.