Vulnerable Situations

I was driving home from work the other night, and on my dimly lit suburban street I passed not one but two people walking their dogs while wearing all black, rendering them nearly impossible to see in the darkness (one had put a glow ring around his dog, clearly demonstrating his priorities regarding whose survival he cared about most).

I was furious as I passed them. How could they be so irresponsible? How could they put me in that situation? 

And then once I reached home, I reflected on that emotion, because it struck me as a bit weird and in need of unpacking.

Obviously, I was worried that I wouldn't see the pedestrian and would strike them with my car. Of course, if that happened, it'd be the pedestrian who'd actually be injured. I'm encased inside a one-ton steel tank. I'd be fine. But it'd be very traumatizing, and I'd feel terrible, and then there are the potential legal consequences -- those are all pretty scary, and it's that imagined prospect that really motivates my anger at the pedestrian.

So to sum up: I'm mad at the pedestrian for putting me in a position where I might be emotionally traumatized and/or face legal liability for seriously hurting them.

The thing is, when you put it that way, I sound like a sociopath. "Did you ever consider how you getting physically maimed on the hood of my car might effect me?" Who thinks like that?

Apparently I do, at least instinctively. So ... is that a sociopathic emotion? Certainly, we might say the pedestrian should behave differently (say, wear brighter colors) out of a healthy sense of self-preservation. But is there some sort of implied duty to the driver as well? Is there a sense in which someone who is vulnerable has, at least in circumstances where it is feasible/relatively costless, an obligation to mitigate their own vulnerability? Or is that nuts?

No broad moral here. Just a thought I was wrestling through.

Where Am "I"?

This post has no political content whatsoever. It is a random, rather inane question I was pondering last night.

When I think of where "I", am, spatially speaking, the answer is "my brain". That is the seat of my consciousness, it is the physical location I identify as being occupied by the core of my being. When I think, the spot where I feel like the thoughts come from is my head. Which makes sense, since my brain is where I do all my thinking.

But it also so happens that my brain is right behind my eyes. If we imagine our eyes as the holes in our body that we peer through to see the world, it makes sense that we'd conceptualize ourselves as existing right behind them. So maybe that's why that particular spot is the one we associate as being where "we" are.

So here's the question: If our eyes were in our chest, would we still view ourselves as centered around our brain? Or would it move to our chest? Or flip it: if our eyes were still in our head, but our brain was in our chest, would we still identify our thoughts as coming from our head or from our chest? (Or perhaps there'd be a more fundamental divergence between where we feel our thoughts "exist" -- our chest -- versus where the broader core of the "I" is -- our head).

Again, no big moral to this question. Just a random thought that grabbed my attention last night in lieu of sleeping.

American Shonda: The Tournament

March Madness is over, but my thirst for bracketology remains unquenched. So -- after the rousing success of the democratically-elected dictator tournament -- I propose a new tournament: American Shonda. Which American Jewish public figure is the greatest disgrace to the tribe?

The match-ups will be posted as Twitter polls on this thread. Here are the seeds (14 11 to 16 are getting play-in games):

1. Jared Kushner
2. Stephen Miller
3. Sheldon Adelson
4. Glenn Greenwald
5. Mort Klein
6. Roseanne Barr
7. Rebecca Vilkomerson
8. Ivanka Trump
9. Lee Zeldin
10. Dov Hikind
11. Ariel Gold/Max Blumenthal
12. Matt Brooks/Ben Shapiro
13. Bernie Madoff/Dennis Prager
14. David Horowitz/Shmuley Boteach
15. Philip Weiss/Liel Leibovitz
16. Jill Stein/Adam Milstein

Note that the judging criteria is who brings the greatest shame to the Jewish people as a whole -- not to your particular sub-branch (so tamp down on "as a leftist, I'm more embarrassed by fellow leftists" logic).

The opening round will be posted onto Twitter shortly. In the meantime, let's do a quick rundown of the play-in matches:

14. "Inside every progressive is a totalitarian screaming to get out." Few people have ever so fully lived out a life motto as former communist-turned-fascist David Horowitz. He goes up against "America's Roseanne's Rabbi" Shmuley Boteach, who periodically tries to arrest his fade into irrelevancy with full-page New York Times ads demonstrating why nobody cares what he thinks anymore.

15. Philip Weiss is the progenitor of Mondoweiss, an anti-Zionist Jewish website so on the nose it is literally funded by a White supremacist. He faces fellow "writer" Liel Leibovitz, who regularly vomits out gibberish disguised as erudition in a "toxic" contribution to the Jewish press.

16. Why vote for the lesser of two evils when you can vote for the middle of three? That was Jill Stein's 2016 campaign slogan (paraphrased), and it paid off -- for her and her grift, if not the country. Adam Milstein has historically been a much quieter billionaire than 3 seed Sheldon Adelson, but he's been making moves of late by insisting that Ilhan Omar is an actual terrorist. It takes a lot to have to withdraw from AIPAC 2019 for being too embarrassing, but it's enough for this bubble team to squeak his way onto the final bracket slot.

Update: Yes, there are always going to be some bubble teams that don't make the cut. But I've been alerted to some truly inexcusable omissions. We can't have a Shonda bracket where Ben Shapiro isn't in the field. And so I feel like I have no choice but to expand the play-in brackets.

11. When she isn't shilling for Iran, Code Pink big wig Ariel Gold is gleefully photographing Neturei Karta activists in Rashida Tlaib's office. Gold's never met a dictatorship she doesn't like (save Saudi Arabia -- Iranian patronage comes with strings). But Max Blumenthal hasn't met a conspiracy theory he doesn't like. The man you call when James O'Keefe is in prison presents a formidable challenge and a marquee play-in game match-up.

12. Can a spineless weasel be your spirit animal? Matt Brooks and the RJC want to find out! Though I suppose it takes guts, in a sense, to spend an entire conference raking Ilhan Omar over alleged "dual loyalty" insinuations and then shrug and smile when President Trump tells a roomful of American Jews that Netanyahu is "your Prime Minister." He'll face leading, ahem, conservative "intellectual" Ben Shapiro. Shapiro is a very different animal from the alt-right, in that (a) the alt-right hates Shapiro, whereas Shapiro loves himself, and (b) there are no other material differences between Ben Shapiro and the alt-right.

13. Speaking of "intellectuals", Dennis Prager's "PragerU" is where you go if you want such academic gems like "the southern strategy doesn't exist" and "maybe Hitler would've been okay if he'd stayed in Germany." His opponent is Bernie Madoff, who also almost didn't make the cut because arguably a "public figure" can't be in prison. Madoff -- the living embodiment of a deadly antisemitic stereotype -- certainly qualifies as an embarrassment, but has he spent too long out of the public eye to compete?

Root Beer Taste Test

I love root beer. As a non-alcohol drinker, it's the closest thing I get to experiencing the varieties of real beer. And so, for years, I've had a dream of performing a root beer taste test. And now that dream is coming true.

Over the course of several days, I've drank a variety of different root beers -- both commonplace and artisanal. I've given them all a grade and some brief commentary. It's my gift to you, but more than that, it's my gift to me.

* * *

A&W: I bought a bottle of A&W for sake of completion, because I already knew I didn't like it. But its one of the big names in the root beer business, so I figured I had to give it a shot. And to be honest, I was pleasantly surprised. I always felt like A&W tasted like it had been left out in the sun for too long, but this was sweeter and crisper than I remembered (although a molasses-type sweetness -- the bottle says "aged vanilla" -- which I wasn't a huge fan of). It does depend on it being fully carbonated -- once the carbonation fades, it start to taste like liquified brown sugar -- but again, not terrible. Still not great though. C+.

Barq's: With all this stress on small, artisanal root beers some may be surprised that I fully expected Barq's to do very well in this challenge. Of the "big three" mainstream root beer brands (A&W and Mug being the other two), Barq's is by far my favorite and is the root beer that is always in my fridge. The famous "bite" isn't anything too extreme, but certainly gives it a personality that one wouldn't expect from a Coca-Cola product. The main downside is that there isn't a ton underneath the bite -- once the snap wears off, it goes downhill really quickly -- but as long as you don't linger while drinking it Barq's is very crisp and refreshing. A.

Mug: Good. Generic, but good. Not a lot to say about this. I last got a bottle of Mug when it came with a Dominos Pizza, and that feels entirely appropriate somehow. B+.

Bedford's: Surprisingly watery. I had tried a bunch of "darker" flavors prior to drinking Bedford's, and when I first sipped it I couldn't quite put my finger on what its distinct flavor was. A full bottle later, and I still wasn't sure, and had no recollection about what it was. There's nothing particularly offensive about this drink, but there's nothing remotely memorable about it either. C-.

Dad's: It was difficult for me to place Dad's flavor (mint? No, that's not right), but it was generally quite pleasant. The problem was there was nothing going on underneath it -- in fact, it was pretty watery. I've heard that some people get "Dad's" as a cute Father's Day gift, and I have to say that it's far better than what one would typical expect for a "gimmick-grade" product. B.

Frostie: Frostie has a cartoon Santa on its bottle. And it tastes like Christmas! I can't even describe what that means; hell, I don't even celebrate Christmas. But it tastes exactly like what I imagine Christmas to taste like. It's a very particular sort of sweet that's pleasing and wintery and not too strong. That taste overlays a pretty forgettable base, but overall this is a strong entry. A-.

Henry Weinhard's: This has a flavor that I imagine is a take-it-or-leave-it proposition. For me, it tastes a little like cough syrup. Now, I have to say that if cough syrup tasted like this I'd be really happy -- it'd make a darn tasty cough syrup! But in the root beer category, that's a downgrade. It does foam very impressively though. B-.

IBC: Tastes like a darker version of Barq's. It has a bite as well, though not as distinctive. The flavor is a little richer, and I can imagine people going both ways on it. But I'm a big fan. A.

Sioux City: One taste of this and I was like "we've got a contender." Two tastes and I immediately recanted. This has a dreadful aftertaste -- truly foul. I'm not sure where it comes from, because it has a very nice taste when it hits your tongue. This must be what drug addiction feels like -- a momentary great feeling, followed by awfulness. D+.

O-So Butterscotch Root Beer: As the name describes. This has a very strong -- I'd argue overpowering -- butterscotch flavor that feels incongruous. Like, I can see how someone might think it goes with a root beer base, but they turned out to be wrong. Root beer is sweet enough as it is, this turned it positively sickly. Would not recommend unless you're a true butterscotch fan (which I admittedly am not). C-.

Red Arrow: Like A&W without the sweetness. This is what I imagine dark beer to taste like. Unfortunately, it lacks the smoothness of A&W. In fact, the more I think of it, the more this tastes like my bad memories of A&W. Not a fan. C-.

Yes, It's Cliched

But I'm as tickled as anyone about the whole 11:11:11 on 11/11/11 thing.

Though it also is one of those "grappling with my mortality" things when I remember that this is the last time something like this will happen in my lifetime (I am pessimistic at my ability to survive to the year 2111 -- though I guess making it to 2:22:22 on 2/22/22 is pretty likely).

Canadian Boxer or Jedi Knight?

I just put this up at Bad Left Hook, but I'll repost here as well (and if you prefer, here it is in Sporcle form):

(1) Bardan Jusik

(2) Janks Trotter

(3) Schiller Hyppolite

(4) Kyle Katarn

(5) Arash Usmanee

(6) Corran Horn

(7) Manolis Plaitis

(8) Ghislain Maduma

(9) Even Piell

(10) Denton Daley

* * *

ANSWERS: (1) JK (2) CB (3) CB (4) JK (5) CB (6) JK (7) CB (8) CB (9) JK (10) CB.

One Decade On, One Decade Off

Ex.-Rep. Bob Shamansky (D-OH) died last week. He only served one term in Congress, during the 1980s, so he wasn't that notable for his political accomplishments. Rather, what is fascinating about him is the temporal range of his career. Shamansky ran for Congress in 1966, in 1980 (when he won), 1982 (when he lost the seat he won), and 2006. In other words, he ran in three separate decades, with an "off" decade in between each.

I have to think that's unique. Condolences to Rep. Shamansky's loved ones.

Random Connection of the Day

Two years ago, I posted a baller ad by a New Orleans mayoral candidate named James Perry. It shows his fellow candidates at a public forum answering a question about the "Youth Study Center". Clearly not knowing what it was, the candidates assumed it was something nice, like a library, and started extolling its virtues, saying things like "we need more of them" and "put them in the schools". It was left to Mr. Perry to inform his fellows that "the Youth Study Center is a jail." Love.

Anyway, turns out James Perry is the "Perry" in Melissa Harris-Perry. No wonder he was so awesome!

Sleep Chronicles, Part II

Like most people, I sleep differently in different beds. Most of the time, it's obvious that I like some beds better than others. But there are two types of sleep patterns I experience where I'm honestly unsure which one is superior.

Imagine a typical, decent night's sleep. Not absolutely blacked-out bliss, but pretty solid. And when you wake up, you feel relatively awake -- not Woody Woodpecker-on-meth chipper, but in a good spot to start the day.

The only difference is that in bed X you naturally wake up relatively early (say, 8 AM) and in bed Y you naturally wake up relatively late (say, 11 AM).

So, which is better? On the one hand, you could say that bed X gave you the same level of restfulness, but in a shorter time period. It's more efficient! On the other hand, bed Y gave you the same degree of restfulness for longer. It's sustained quality!

Obviously, one way to check this would be to see how you feel at the end of the day. But that's tough to do, given that one's tiredness at the end of any given day is reliant not just on the quality of sleep you got before, but also what time you woke up and, oh yeah, the activities you engaged in that day. So I'm trying to rely on intuition, and it is failing me.

Free Running Academy

Super-cool, from the soundtrack to the Super Mario blocks. My only complaint (and maybe this marks me off as more of a parkour guy, although I can appreciate the aesthetic of free running) is that the people spend too much time doing back flips off walls and not enough time getting to new places. What makes free running look so cool to me is the ability to get to hard-to-reach places in novel and exciting ways.

Okay, enough complaining from me. Back to the awesome.

The Jordan Move Was Pretty Sweet Too

In my defense, "I'm not sure that's 100% safe" was only my second thought -- after "that's adorable" but before "wow, that's really awesome".



Via.

Lego House

This is less impressive if you've been to the Mall of America ... but only a little bit less.



Via.

Badass of the Week

Rukhsana Kauser, for "having the first Die Hard movie localized entirely within the confines of her living room" via fighting off six terrorists who came to her farm with just a hatchet (and the assault rifle she wrested away from one with her bare hands, natch).

"Door Close"

This makes me unreasonably upset:

In most elevators, at least in any built or installed since the early nineties, the door-close button doesn’t work. It is there mainly to make you think it works. (It does work if, say, a fireman needs to take control. But you need a key, and a fire, to do that.) Once you know this, it can be illuminating to watch people compulsively press the door-close button. That the door eventually closes reinforces their belief in the button’s power. It’s a little like prayer.

The article is a surprisingly interesting essay on elevators. I particularly liked the bit about "smart elevators", in which you input your floor at a central control panel, and it tells you which elevator to take. Consequently, the elevators themselves have no control panel, which apparently makes people feel like they've been kidnapped by a Bond villain.