Word: cornes
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...hard to say what Gladwell is trying to prove with a section on professional food tasters, for instance, but, hey, did you know that food scientists have a 15-point scale for measuring crispiness, on which Quaker's Chewy Chocolate Chunk Granola Bars are a 2 and Kellogg's Corn Flakes a 14? What Gladwell is saying in Blink is often less compelling than the facts he uses to back himself up. Who doesn't know that tall, good-looking people get preferential treatment? But Gladwell's analysis of the political career of Warren G. Harding--who was a lousy...
...sits back as the lumbering machinery crashes into a 40-acre cornfield. As the front of the machine noses through the furrows like 13 red moles, chomping at the stocks and churning ears into grain, Mitchell checks his e-mail on a wireless laptop, downloads the moisture content of corn being stored...
With a Harvard degree in biomedical engineering, Mitchell is no average farmer. After graduating in 1999, he worked and traveled for a year. He then took the unusual step of returning to the family farm where his father and great-uncle still work in the corn and soybean fields and his mom handles the bookkeeping. In the face of soaring costs and fluctuating crop prices, family farms nationwide have faced increasing difficulty, and many have shut down. Since his return, Mitchell has morphed his old farm into a technological experiment--making the farm economically stronger and environmentally sound. "The technology...
...results may more than make up for the initial costs. "When Clay first started with the autopilot, the economics didn't seem feasible," says Doug Hefty, a farmer neighbor of the Mitchells'. "But as time went on, I had the opportunity to see what the yield did on his corn hybrids. He surpassed me by leaps and bounds--it's embarrassing. He's using less fertilizer and nitrogen than I am but growing 20 bushels more corn an acre...
...have been to Clyde. My father grew up in that corner of northwestern Ohio, and every summer of my childhood we drove west, my brother and I staging violent turf wars in the back seat, until we reached country where the flat loamy soil was carpeted in soybeans and corn. Although I am blue-state born and bred, Ohio felt like home, and our trips like homecomings. I snapped beans from my grandparents’ garden into a bowl in my lap so we could eat them for dinner. My grandfather took my brother and me for rides...