Sauce for the Chicken

The other night, we patronized the McDrive-through window of a fast-food McEstablishment that shall remain McNameless. Pulling up at the food-dispensal (?) window, we noticed a sign taped to the glass:

Sauce Policy:

4 Pieces One Sauce Packet

6 Pieces One Sauce Packet

10 Pieces Two Sauce Packets

20 Pieces Four Sauce Packets

We were intrigued. "Policy" is a word we expect to see attached to "Healthcare" or "Economic," but "Sauce"? Who devised this policy? Was there a task force? A blue-ribbon commission? An outside consultant? The Solipsist wanted to know--and, more importantly, he knew that YOU would want to know.

We were put in contact with a disgruntled former McEmployee, a rotund purple fellow who wishes to remain anonymous. "Schmimace," as we will call him, smuggled out some files, including a transcript from a pivotal meeting of January 14th. Herewith follows a selection:

". . . .Yes, thank you, ladies and gentlemen. As you know, my team has been working on the McN****t question. Specifically, we have tried to figure out why, despite consistent sales, our processed-chicken-parts division is losing over $48 billion a year. After 6 years, countless thousands of man-hours, and at least one fatality (depending on whether Thompson pulls through), we have the answer.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's the sauce."

(Audible gasps, the sound of a table being pounded, and one loud, female shriek.)

"I know, Mr. Abernathy, I know. It seems implausible, but we've crunched the numbers. It IS the sauce. Specifically, we have found that franchisees consistently engage in reckless and profligate sauce distribution. To wit: The Condiment-Dispensation Unit has determined a regular dipping pattern for the average purchaser of a delicious 6-piece McN****ts. On average, one McN****t is consumed in two bites. Most consumers engage in a "full" dip before taking a bite of the McN****t. Roughly 83% of McN****t eaters then dip the second half; however, this dip is, on average, 13 milliliters smaller than the first dip! In short, the CDU has determined that ONE sauce packet will meet the McN****t-dipping needs of the average consumer of a delicious 6-piece McN****t meal, with approximately 187 milliliters of sauce left over.

"Do the math: This means we can meet the sauce needs of a delicious 10-piece McN****t consumer with two sauce packets, and of a delicious 20-piece McN****t consumer with four. Should the corporation decide to proceed in its experiments with delicious 50-, 100-, and 1,000-piece SuperN****ts, we will crunch the numbers again, as we can assume (indeed, hope) that these sizes will be shared; thus individual sauce-dipping patterns may need to be adjusted.

"The problem, ladies and gentlemen, is that franchisees have "gone rogue" in their distribution of sauce. Random surveys across the country have found that only 38% of franchisees regularly distribute the appropriate amounts of dipping sauce, as outlined above. Approximately 34% give one "extra" sauce packet, 25% give two extra, and the remainder provide 3 or more extra packets per customer. Indeed, one franchisee in Norman, Oklahoma, gave a customer 37 packets of sweet and sour sauce with a single six-piece McN****t order!

"He has been disciplined, but the POINT, ladies and gentlemen, is that this great company will be bankrupt within the next seven weeks unless we introduce and enforce a strict "McN****t Sauce Policy": One for four; one for six; two for ten; four for twenty. (The CDU has estimated that it would be too costly to introduce a smaller sauce packet size to accommodate the appropriate sauce amount for a four-piece McN****t meal; however, as this is a "Kids' size meal," we'll recoup the losses from increased customer loyalty.)

"Again, ladies and gentlemen: One for four; one for six; two for ten; four for twenty. In batting average terms, that's 8 for 40 or .200. A terrible average for baseball, but perfect for this corporation. Thus, the new marketing campaign for our franchises: "Batting .200 is a way to stay in the big leagues!

"Thank you for your time."

(Thunderous applause.)

Because EVERY Day is "Malice Day"

We could handle the math-geek exuberance of "Square Root Day."

We chuckled at the absurdity of "Talk Like a Pirate Day."

We actually kind of enjoyed "National Punctuation Day."

But we must draw the line somewhere. And, folks, "somewhere" is here.

Today, dear Sloppists, is "World Kindness Day."

According to the website, November 13 was decreed "World Kindness Day" in 1998. That was the opening day of the first World Kindness Movement conference in Tokyo. From their website:

The purpose of World Kindness Day is to look beyond ourselves, beyond the boundaries of our country, beyond our culture, our race, our religion; and realise we are citizens of the world. As world citizens we have a commonality, and must realise that if progress is to be made in human relations and endeavours, if we are to achieve the goal of peaceful coexistence, we must focus on what we have in common. When we find likenesses we begin to experience empathy, and in such a state we can fully relate to that person or those people. While we may think of people from other cultures as being ‘different’ when we compare them with our own customs and beliefs, it doesn’t mean that we are any better than they are. When we become friends with someone from a different culture we discover that despite some obvious differences, there are many similarities.

Guess we shouldn't have kicked that hobo this morning.

But "World Kindness Day" isn't just for the Japanese anymore!

--Americans celebrate it: The website of Los Angeles Public Relations Firms exhorts us to "Take a minute and be kind to someone today." (A minute? When you think about it, that's a pretty hefty chunk of sustained kindness.)

--In Singapore, government "volunteers" handed out 45,000 yellow daisies as symbols of kindness--no doubt avoiding a good caning.

--The United Arab Emirates takes a more practical approach, urging citizens to be kind to themselves by brushing their teeth we are not making this up. (Note to Sloppists: If you're planning to hook up with someone in the UAE, today's the day to do it!)

--Canadians celebrate "World Kindness Day"--or, as they call it, Friday--by going about their business and wondering why it's so comparatively quiet in the basement (i.e., Montana).

"But, Solipsist," you ask, "What can I do to celebrate WKD?" Here are some suggestions:

--Take your blogger to lunch.

--Hug a stray dog.

--Avoid using the words "fag," "fatass," and/or "retard" (unless, of course, you are actually speaking to or about a retarded overweight homosexual--then it's fine.)

--Hug a cactus.

--If a homeless person asks for spare change, make eye contact as you lie about not having any.

--Hug a Rush Limbaugh fan.

OK, strike that last one: It's "World KINDNESS Day," not "Take Leave of Your Senses" Day.

Sigh.

When is "World Snark Day"?

A Brief Post, in Which We Parse the Zeitgeist and Ascertain That a Certain Segment of the Population is Woefully Misdirected

The cover of this month's Vanity Fair asks, in re Robert Pattinson, "Can 100 million screaming Twilight fans be wrong?":

Why, yes. Yes, they can.

That is all.

(For supplemental commentary from the distaff side, please see Honeypiehorse's post from earlier today.)

Dead Reckoning

The Solipsist is indignant.

Today, as we drove to work, listening, as is our wont, to KFOG, we heard the following news item: The University of California, Santa Cruz, is seeking an archivist for their Grateful Dead Archive. Over the years, UC Santa Cruz has amassed a veritable treasure trove of Dead memorabilia, so the school needs someone to come in and manage the Dead letter office, if you will. (Or even if you won't.) If you have a master's degree in library science, and you're interested in applying, it sounds like a pretty good gig: Starting salary is $52,860 (minimum), the UC system has good benefits, and, hey, you'll be right by the beach!

Does anyone else have a problem with this?

We have nothing against the Grateful Dead (indeed, the Solipsist has a peripheral connection to the band, which is too complicated to go into here). They made good music, and they are an integral part of rock and roll history. And though conservative critics will no doubt point to the archive as another example of liberal higher-education's frivolity and lack of academic rigor, we have no prima facie problem with a college assembling a Grateful Dead Archive.

But here's the thing: We work at a California Community College. You may have heard something recently about California's teensy weensy economic troubles.

Over the last few weeks, our administration has ordered the departments to cut approximately 14% of their sections from an already diminished curriculum. Adjuncts have been laid off. At least one community college has announced that it is canceling its entire summer program to make ends meet. At the UC level, tuition and fees for in-state students will, for the first time, exceed $10,000 a year, even as course offerings are slashed.

In our little corner of academia, Basic Skills, we have been without a full-time reading specialist for the last four years--problematic when approximately one third of our department's curriculum consists of reading courses. Every year, even before the budget crisis, we requested that the college restore this position, lost when the last full-time reading specialist retired; every year, we have been turned down, told there is no money in the budget to hire such a person.

So, forgive us for being just the tiniest bit outraged that, in the midst of this financial turmoil (and we can only assume that UC Santa Cruz has not been exempt), over $50,000 a year is being allocated to organize rock and roll memorabilia.

Besides, we're sure there are any number of Deadheads out there who would do the job for free. You can pay them in weed and munchies.

It Was 20 Years Ago Today. . .

Well, yesterday, actually. Sorry. Chalk it up to Daylight Savings Time. Or is it Standard Time. Can never keep those straight.

Anyway, so, yes: Twenty years ago yesterday, November 9, 1989, the Cold War ended as the Berlin Wall came down--peacefully, no less. The Solipsist has a couple of followers with German roots, and he himself actually visited Germany not too long after the historic events, so we thought we'd share a reminiscence.

(Digression: It was noted in Sunday's paper that November 9 would, in Europe, traditionally be noted as 9/11--those wacky Europeans putting the date first. Something. . . not "ironic," but eerie about that. EOD.)

We traveled to Berlin in the summer 1992. It was the week of the Republican convention, so we were happy to be out of town. Berlin was, of course, no longer physically divided by the Wall, but the Wall itself had not been completely taken down. Somewhere, we have a photo of ourselves standing in one of the gaps, straddling the boundary, posed like Da Vinci's Vitruvian man, half in the East and half in the West. We imagine we are one of about 19 million people to take such a photograph, but the implications still get to us.

Think about it: for nearly 30 years, this was the de facto dividing line between capitalism and communism, between freedom and oppression, between democracy and totalitarianism. Before traveling to Germany, we had an image of some Great Wall of Europe--a literal Iron Curtain to reify the metaphorical one. But it was no such thing.

The Berlin Wall "towered" about 12 feet. It was comprised not of ancient stones but of large sheets of bland concrete. The very fact that we could straddle the boundary gives you some idea of the Wall's thickness. (Yes, we know there were actually two walls with a sort of no-man's-land, valley of death between them. But the physical infrastructure was still less than imposing.)

It reminded us of nothing so much as one of those standard sitcom set-ups: Two roommates bicker to the point where they become so frustrated with each other that they declare a permanent separation: Tape is liberally applied, demarcating the space belonging to each roommate. Hilarity ensues when one roommate realizes that he no longer has access to the front door, while the other realizes he has relinquished bathroom privileges. Cue the laugh track.

Astonishing to think that the Soviet authorities could slap down a few comparatively flimsy miles of concrete and declare that everything to the east of it belonged to them. Even more astonishing to think that, for 30 years, it worked.

Here's to Your Health IV (Or, "Perspective II")

The House of Representatives passed a health care reform bill on Saturday. We realize you well-informed Sloppists already knew this, but we also know that, for you, it hasn't happened until the Solipsist comments on it (and don't think we don't appreciate your blind obedience). So now it's official!

One piece of the House bill has caused a disproportionate amount of debate: a provision that "would block the use of federal subsidies for insurance that covers elective abortions" ("For Abortion Foes, a Victory in Health Care Vote"). The anti-abortion movement claims this as a major victory, and groups like Planned Parenthood and NARAL Pro-Choice America are understandably dismayed.

For the record, we would like to emphasize our staunch support of these latter organizations and our unshakable belief in a woman's right to choose. We believe that health care plans should cover all reproductive services, and we would love to see a health care bill that required insurers to cover such services. For that matter, we would love to see a health care bill that established single-payer health insurance (i.e., socialized medicine, or, if you prefer, commie-pinko-Nazi healthcare that will destroy America).

But we're not going to get that--at least, not anytime soon. Sometimes, to paraphrase Donald Rumsfeld, you go to war with the health care plan you've got, not the one you'd like to have. Something about half a loaf being better than none and the perfect being the enemy of the good.

Look, as important as reproductive rights are (and they ARE very important), the abortion debate sucks up a disproportionate share of executive, legislative, and judicial energy in this country. Right now, according to the National Coalition on Health Care, between 47 and 54 million Americans--between 20 and 27 percent of the population under age 65--have no health insurance. If foregoing federal funding for abortion means that most of those people have access to health care, that's an acceptable trade-off.

Because it's not even clear how much of an impact such a restriction will have. Some numbers from today's Times:

--According to a 2003 study, only 13% of abortions were billed to insurance companies.

--Only about 50% of employer-provided insurance packages cover abortion.

--Currently, the federal employees' health insurance plan and most state Medicaid programs ban coverage of abortion.

None of these statistics should be considered "good." But it does shed some light on the relative impact of the House's proposal. And if agreeing to restrict financing for abortions gets some conservatives--to say nothing of the American Catholic church, a powerful lobbying group in its own right--to back health care reform, so be it.

Down the road, as attitudes change, the law can be changed. It would seem easy enough--well, not "easy," but possible--to improve a national health care plan once it's been established. Once most Americans can get basic health care without going bankrupt, once health care becomes part of the background of American life (as Social Security and Medicare already are), then the pro-choice majority can fight for greater coverage of abortion services.

Right now, though, too many people starve, and that half a loaf looks mighty tasty.

Noxiae poena par esto

The concept of appropriate legal punishment has been around for a long time. Cicero proposed that authorities should "Let the punishment be equal with the offence," a sentiment expressed more catchily by W. S. Gilbert in "The Mikado": "My object all sublime I shall achieve in time--To let the punishment fit the crime." A reasonable idea, but one that founders upon the shoals of disagreement as to what "appropriate" means. Do we take an eye for an eye, or do we turn the other cheek? Or something in between?

The debate becomes understandably heated around the death penalty: Is it appropriate to take a life under any circumstances? What crimes merit the death penalty? What purpose does this penalty serve? etc. (see post of 6/6/09). One thing that most people would agree on, though, is that the death penalty is reserved for the most heinous crimes, and that only the most heinous crimes should be subject to the death penalty.

One attempt to finesse the issue--to find some middle ground acceptable to both law-and-order and more liberal types--is life-without-parole (LWOP). Sometimes referred to as "living death," LWOP is exactly what the name implies: life in prison without any possibility of parole. Frankly, this sounds to us quite a bit harsher than a straightforward death sentence, but it does at least avoid the finality of execution in cases where the slightest sliver of doubt might remain.

Regardless of how one feels about LWOP, one would expect it, like the death penalty, to be reserved only for the most heinous of crimes--crimes that would carry a death sentence were LWOP not an option. We were surprised, therefore, to learn that many prisoners who had received LWOP sentences have not, in fact, committed murder. Indeed, according to "Weighing Life in Prison for Youths Who Didn't Kill," there are over 100 juvenile offenders who are currently serving LWOP sentences for non-lethal crimes.

We are not speaking of people who fall victim to "3 strikes"-type laws (which are not necessarily life sentences, nor do they necessarily preclude the possibility of parole). Rather, these are people who committed their crimes when they were under 18, and whose crimes were deemed serious enough to warrant permanent removal from society. The Supreme Court will hear appeals from two of these convicts, who claim that LWOP amounts to "cruel and unusual" punishment.

What intrigued us was our own knee-jerk reaction to the two cases: One was a 13-year-old convicted of raping a 72 year old woman; the other was sentenced to a year in jail for armed robbery, but then, after violating parole at the age of seventeen (for committing a home invasion robbery), he received the LWOP sentence.

While not necessarily opposed to LWOP in principle (for the record, we do not oppose the principle of the death penalty either), we think there is something cruel and unusual about a punishment regime that imposes the same sentence on someone who rapes an elderly woman as on someone who commits armed robbery--especially when the latter was only sentenced to LWOP because he happened to be on parole at the time of the offense. But does the fact that the sentence was imposed in a cruel and unusual manner mean that the concept of the punishment is itself cruel and unusual? We await the Supreme Court's reasoning on the question.