I found a lovely news release at www.cpsc.gov, a site that I'm sure is going to bring me a great deal of joy in the future, as it is home to the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission and, most importantly, their treasure trove of safety recalls. Many of the recalls are about as exciting as watching lead paint dry up the brains of children, but there are a few nuggets in there that really shine a spotlight on human stupidity. Like the multiple recalls of candles for their fire-hazardness (some legitimate ones for flammable labels, but one for a candle that burns with a "high flame," which makes visions of flamethrowers dance through my head).

My current favorite, though, has got to be the hot glue guns that short circuit, and then burn and shock people. Where did these glues guns come from, you ask? You guessed it: the Dollar Tree. The recall informs us that they cost "about $1". Which, for the DOLLAR Tree, is -- and I'm just guessing now -- pretty much standard. Really, government? About a dollar? Thanks so much for that carefully researched information!

I want to know who the people are who thought it would be a good idea to buy a hot glue gun at the Dollar Tree. I want to know who thought it would be a good idea to hold a machine in their hand that brought together those too-long-separated sweethearts scalding glue and electricity, and yet only cost a dollar to buy. Have you ever seen the crap they sell at the Dollar Tree? Even their toilet paper puts me in fear for my very life, much less something that connects me to an electrical outlet. Hell, I would have been disappointed if a hot glue gun from the Dollar Tree didn't short circuit.

The lesson of the day is that you shouldn't cheap out on potentially dangerous equipment, or risk the shocking and burning sensations that result from my scorn. Also, if you were one of the mentally unfortunate people who bought this item, be assured that you can return it to the store for a full refund. I hear it's about a dollar.

One of my favorite things to do at work is stalking Bell Hall around lunchtime. Bell Hall plays host to a great number of events when classes are in session, most of them scheduled from 12-2pm, with buffets that will more often than not have way too much food on them for the attendees. It's on the fifth floor, one up from me, and I pass by when I walk up to the copy machine. Many weeks, there's an event every day.

This food is catered by Sodexho, Hog Butcher for colleges, prisons, and other similarly diabolical institutions. While the leftover food from Harvard's main campus is donated to the homeless, Sodexho ensures that the Kennedy School's extra food goes to a much less dignified end: filling dumpsters. So we Kennedy School members have no qualms stealing what would otherwise be thrown away.

Every day, between 1:30 and 2, the foot traffic on the fifth floor grows noticeably. People slow down as they walk past or boldly skulk by the doorway, peering inside, furtively checking for frenemy scavengers or nefarious event organizers who hang onto the room for longer than they should. Was there an event today? Is it over yet? Is there food left or did those greedy bastards eat it all?

A wide cross-section of the Kennedy School shows up: administrative staffers, maintenance workers, faculty members, students, heads of research centers, the guys from StudioKSG media services. This free lunch admits all takers; here, raw speed, not the size of your paycheck, determines the pecking order.

The cleanup staff generally comes promptly at two, so everyone is on edge to get there in the small window after the event ends and before the food disappears. The sometimes-meager leftovers can turn coworkers into bitter rivals, snapping at the last pieces of chicken or (could it be?!) steak tips with dueling metal tongs. I was here first! No, me!

Some of us have found that it pays to work cooperatively and formed a coalition: when one of us realizes the food is available, they alert the others by email or popping from office to office. In helping each other, if you'll permit me to wax philosophical, we help ourselves, as our anti-Ayn-Randian system ensures we are all of us properly fed, ready to work the rest of the day, ready to echo the words of our namesake John F. Kennedy and ask what we can do.

Or something.

Did I mention that the school is in the middle of a rebranding effort, and that we'll be known commonly as the Harvard Kennedy School (HKS) instead of the Kennedy School of Government (KSG)? Or that our new website is going to have "Ask what you can do" plastered all over it? That information might be useful to understand some of my final sentiments. That and my rampant sarcasm.

Norbit gets an Oscar nom, Heath Ledger dies... coincidence?

Sooo... how bout that writers strike? That's really affecting me... and... stuff. Not really. These are the times when it pays to have an unplayable amount of downloaded video games and an unwatchable amount of DVDs. Also, our backlog of recorded and downloaded shows. Also, a new Netflix gift subscription from Mike and Sarah. Also, Idol.

We've been watching Idol in HDTV for the first time this season. Everything looks so crisp, you can really see how ugly some of these contestants are.

In other reality show news, Hil's frat sibling Dave won Beauty and the Geek in the fall. We saw him for the first time since the win last weekend, amidst burning French toast smoke at a birthday brunch. He seemed more or less exactly the same, but goes on more dates now evidently.

My own inevitable fame seems further off. I am currently focusing on the art of removing the black borders when photocopying textbooks. I am doing more creative writing in my head than on my computer, though I am typing some stuff up, and Hil and I will be taking the Advanced Poetry workshop at the Harvard Extension School this spring.

Today I noticed small birds occupying the dead-for-winter hedges along Eliot St., flitting about inside them, perching on bare branches like wuxia fighters, and providing me with a concluding image to connect poetic language back to cinema. Well played, wuxia birds.