From the Get a Life Files

We know we've discussed Facebook's "Family Feud" application, and we don't mean to start a trend or anything, but this morning we were playing ACOS's "Fast Money" round, and we got the question: "Name something you would dress up your iPod as for Halloween."


Has it come to this? Do people actually "dress up" their iPods? People who dress up their pets are pathetic enough.



But dressing up your iPod? What does that even mean?!?

Frankly, we had no idea. We typed in "pumpkin," which seemed reasonable enough, but found out that "pumpkin" was "already answered." Seems great minds and cousins think alike. Well, OK, we tried "skeleton." When the answers were revealed, we saw that ACOS's answer (pumpkin) received 0 points. So did "skeleton." The number one answer? "Ghost."

A napkin with eyeholes cut in it, maybe?

We hereby resolve in 2011 never to dress up our iPods. We do, however, think our cell phone would look adorable as Strawberry Shortcake.

Maybe If We Had Video of the Birth with Volcanos in the Background. . . .

Hawaii's governor, Neil Abercrombie, is trying to debunk, once and for all, arguments of the "birthers"--conspiracy theorists unworthy of capitalization who insist that President Obama was not born in the United States and is thus ineligible to be president.

(DIGRESSION: We can almost sympathize with the "birthers"; we had doubts as to George W. Bush's presidential legitimacy based on a similarly tenuous premise: that he had received fewer VOTES than his opponent from those born in the United States. Oh, wait: That was actually true. EOD)

Barack Obama, of course, has provided a copy of his birth certificate--an official copy--which presumably was considered sufficient proof of his citizenship to allow him to get a passport or a social security card or, y'know, a JOB at various points in his life. Still "birthers" want to see the official "long form" of the birth certificate, which is not considered a public document in Hawaii. Governor Abercrombie has taken it upon himself to initiate discussions with the appropriate agencies in Hawaii to have them release this document, thus refuting, once and for all, this most specious of arguments.

Governor, we feel your pain, and, for what it's worth, we applaud your passion on this issue. But, seriously, why bother? Do you think for a second that, if and when you are able to publish this information, the "birthers" will back down? Do you really envision any scenario in which these folks acknowledge their mistake much less apologize? When you release the birth certificate, they will no doubt simply claim that this is a manufactured document--that you yourself are in cahoots--CAHOOTS!--with this illegitimate administration.

That's the beauty of a conspiracy theory: Any proof offered against it is just greater proof that the conspiracy exists.

First, Do No Harm. But If You DO Harm, Make Sure You Get Paid

We read an article a few days ago about psychiatric hospitals in New York suing indigent patients to recoup costs of treatment after those patients come into money.

In and of itself, we see no problem with this: We do not advocate withholding treatment from anyone because of an inability to pay; indeed, hospital budgets take into account a certain amount of charitable--i.e., unremunerated--services. At the same time, though, doctors and hospitals have a right to receive payment for services rendered. If people receive expensive medical services at no cost because they cannot pay, fine, but these same people have an ethical obligation to pay what they can and, if they receive some kind of financial windfall, they should repay the institution that served them in their time of need.

Here's the catch, though: The windfalls that the patients receive are often damages awards.

From lawsuits.

Against the psychiatric institutions themselves.

Thus, for example, a patient who successfully sued a hospital for negligent care that led to severe pain, suffering, and life-threatening infections, was subsequently sued by the hospital for $1.7 million dollars to reimburse for the costs of care.

We can't help but admire the sheer gall of these lawsuits, but we are troubled by the disturbing fact that judges tend to side with the healthcare providers. Think about the implication: If a hospital wants to recoup costs of indigent care, all it needs to do is to arrange an "accident." The bigger the damages award, the bigger the hospital's ultimate payday.

Snow Report

The whiter the weather, the purpler the prose. We don't know what it is about snowfall that forces reporters to channel their inner Hemingway, but invariably, in the wake of a snowstorm, you get passages like this:

"New York was a city of apocalyptic silence in the morning. The choreography of traffic, commuter trains and pedestrian hordes was missing. In its place, a plow scraped by now and then and a car or two churned past on deserted thoroughfares. Cabs were a myth. Side streets were impassable, and people muffled to the eyes slogged over huge drifts and mountains of curbside snow, trying to keep their footing.

"By late morning, the sun broke through and the skies cleared to pristine blue. Winds that had howled like banshees moderated through the day to cello velocities, and Central Park was a child’s dream of winter, with sledders, skiers and strollers out in the drifts, cutting trails to nowhere."

We understand the reporter probably needed to fill a certain number of column inches, and how much can one really stretch out, "It snowed a lot." But, still. "Apocalyptic silence"? "Choreography of traffic"? "Winds that had howled like banshees moderated through the day to cello velocities"?

About that last one, if a reporter must wax poetic, doesn't he or she also have a responsibility not to mix metaphors?

Well Begun and All Done: War and Peace

The book: War and Peace

The author: Seriously?

Opening line: "'En bien, mon prince, so Genoa and Lucca are now merely estates, the private estates of the Buonaparte family.'"

Closing line: "While they were away Pierre, Natasha (now a countess in her own right), Marya and her nephew Coco, the old Count Rostov and his wife and Sonya also stayed on at Otradnoe for the whole summer and the winter of 1813 until Nikolai and Andrei could finally return."

Yes, Nation, the Solipsist just read War and Peace. To answer your next question: Because it was there.

As a supposedly literate type, the Solipsist has always felt somewhat ashamed at the gaps in his literary experience. So occasionally he takes it upon himself to fill one of these gaps. Think of it as a public service: We read the classics so you don't have to. We can proudly report that we have read many of the great unreadables: Remembrance of Things Past; Moby-Dick (yes, the whole thing--honestly, the first 100 pages and the last 50 are terrific--it's those 700 pages about penguins in the middle that kill you); a heap of Dickens; and now War and Peace.

The problem comes when one tries to comment on the thing: What is one supposed to add to the discussion? We feel pressure to come up with some statement of awe--to explain to our assembled masses just why this novel is considered the greatest literary masterpiece of, like, ever. We're not really sure. Let's put it this way: We're glad we read it, but it's never going to make our top-ten list of un-put-downable prose.

Of course, the novel is impressive. What strikes us is Tolstoy's ability to create a truly multi-dimensional character. Take Pierre (aka, Petya, aka Bezukhov, aka Count Bezukhov--you have to get used to characters having multiple names). When we first see him, through the eyes of a St. Petersburg socialite, he seems somewhat buffoonish; when we see him through the eyes of Prince Andrei, a friend, he appears likable; by the end of the novel, he has attained a certain nobility--in more than just title. In this respect, Tolstoy's characters are among the most realistic you will find in any books.

We can appreciate, too, the work and thought that go into a novel like this, dealing with the most profound of issues. For us, Tolstoy's major philosophical point, at least in terms of war and peace, is best expressed by one of the generals, Kutuzov: "He did not know how things stood, but he knew, as old people wise in life know, that time would do everything--everything would happen of itself. And of themselves is the best way for historical events to happen." Throughout the novel, the author intersperses historical analyses, debunking any sort of "great man" theory of military success: The retrospective laurels heaped upon winners of great victories are merely attempts by later generations to rationalize the workings of fate. Battles are won and lost not because of brilliant planning, but because of the nearly random and unpredictable actions of thousands of individuals.

At the same time, Tolstoy the author revels in his own ability to dictate the outcomes of his characters' lives. If "war" is an instrument of fate, then "peace," in the form of romantic and family dramas, is the instrument of the novelist. By the end of the novel, all the major characters have been satisfactorily paired off--we find this out, indeed, in the very last line when we read, as an aside, that Natasha is "now a countess." Perhaps the overall message is that war is ultimately a chaotic, unpredictable affair, but peace and happiness require careful planning.

Christmas Bonus

Well, technically, we suppose this would be a Boxing Day Bonus. We said we'd be back tomorrow, but we had a moment and thought we'd share this:

On the road today, we passed a store called, "Food and Gas." Let's hear it for truth in advertising!

Yuletide Greetings

Just a brief post, as we imagine (and we use the word literally--this can't be true) you all have things to do other than read "The Solipsist." We're off to open presents, and tomorrow we'll be on the road back to Solipsist HQ. We'll see you all on Monday.

Festive Christmahannakwanzakah to all!!

Word of the Day: Humanitarian

As in "Humanitarian aid," the kind of goods and services that United States companies are permitted to sell to nations that the American government otherwise sanctions (e.g., Iran, North Korea, Solipsist Headquarters ((long story))). Allowable products include such things as grains and rice to stave off starvation, as well as medicines and, presumably, some medical supplies and equipment. Oh, and, um, what else?

"[A]llowable humanitarian aid has included cigarettes, Wrigley’s gum, Louisiana hot sauce, weight-loss remedies, body-building supplements and sports rehabilitation equipment sold to the institute that trains Iran’s Olympic athletes."

Remember those tobacco manufacturers who testified before Congress that cigarettes were not harmful? Apparently, they were telling the truth! Not only are cigarettes not harmful, they're medicine! Or maybe food.

Not to worry, though: The licensing office that approves humanitarian exemptions allowing manufacturers to ship to blacklisted countries is on the case:

"Take, for instance, chewing gum, sold in a number of blacklisted countries by Mars Inc., which owns Wrigley’s. 'We debated that one for a month. Was it food? Did it have nutritional value? We concluded it did,' Hal Eren, a former senior sanctions adviser at the licensing office, recalled before pausing and conceding, 'We were probably rolled on that issue by outside forces.'”

Well, OK, what do you expect from government bureaucrats? But, look, ask the manufacturers. THEY can explain the vital role their products play in the health and well-being of innocent populations whose only crime is living under oppressive regimes:

"Henry Lapidos, export manager for the American Pop Corn Company, acknowledged that calling the Jolly Time popcorn he sold in Sudan and Iran a humanitarian good was 'pushing the envelope,' though he did give it a try. 'It depends on how you look at it — popcorn has fibers, which are helpful to the digestive system,' he explained, before switching to a different tack. 'What’s the harm?' he asked, adding that he didn’t think Iranian soldiers 'would be taking microwavable popcorn' to war."

Weapon of mallow destruction?

And if they do, we can always hope that the little kernels getting stuck between their teeth distract them long enough for our boys to finish 'em off.

(Image from Jollytime.com)

Imagine This

First, let us stipulate that any movie in which Tom Waits plays the Devil has something going for it. If that movie is directed by Terry Gilliam, it looks even more promising. That being said, "The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus," while not quite up to the caliber of "Brazil" or "The Fisher King," does not disapppoint.

Essentially, the movie tells a familiar story of good versus evil. Doctor Parnassus (Christopher Plummer) is a former monk involved in eternal skirmishing with Mr. Nick (Waits). The main action of the movie unfolds as the sixteenth birthday of Parnassus's daughter, Valentina (Lily Cole) approaches. Years earlier, Parnassus had made a deal with Mr. Nick to enable him to woo Valentina's mother: Any child born of this union would belong to Nick as of its sixteenth birthday. The Devil loves to gamble, though; he offers Parnassus a way out: Whichever of them can acquire five souls first will win the soul of Lily.

Assisting Parnassus in his quest is an apparently failed suicide named Tony, and here's where the story gets interesting. "Imaginarium" was the final project of the late Heath Ledger. He plays Tony, but he died before finishing the film. Faced with the prospect of abandoning the project, Gilliam and company came up with a novel concept: The part originally played by Ledger was divided among Ledger, Johnny Depp, Jude Law, and Colin Farrell. In the end, Ledger's scenes occur in what may be thought of as the "real world," and each of the other actors plays a version of Tony within the "Imaginarium": A realm of imagination where people are offered their greatest desires--either somewhat ennobling (if offered by Parnassus) or base (if offered by Mr. Nick).

Thus, the movie ultimately has a great curiosity appeal: How well did the filmmakers pull off this improvisatory gambit? Does the multiple casting work? What would it have been like if the entire role had been played by Ledger (or Depp, Law, or Farrell)? Curiosity, though, can be a distraction from simple enjoyment.

In the end, the movie is certainly worth seeing, especially if you like Terry Gilliam: As with all his films, it is visually beautiful. Unfortunately, the movie's behind-the-scenes story seems almost as compelling as what unfolds on the screen.

Lights

For our trip to the great wet Northwest, we left early in the morning. REALLY early. (Did you know there's ANOTHER four o'clock?) We drove along truck-filled highways in pouring rain. And we were struck by the number of lights.


Not streetlights, of which there were virtually none: commercial lights. Halogens shining down on auto dealerships. Multicolored neon beacons advertising the presence of a Best Buy or a Raley's or a Chuck E. Cheese. The Genentech compound with its glowing sign. Bear in mind, we saw all these lights around five o'clock in the morning. On a Sunday.

Not that all the lights bore a commercial message. We passed several refineries--of what, we are unsure. All of these facilities had decorated for the holidays: "Happy Holidays." "Seasons Greetings," "Merry Christmas" strung in lights across vast exterior walls. Most buildings also also had a star glowing from their highest points. We wonder what poor slob in the maintenance department gets stuck risking life and limb to spread joy to the highway riders.

You've probably seen pictures showing the world's illumination at night.

How much energy goes into keeping these retailers brightly lit throughout the night? As the burning of fossil fuels threatens global catastrophe, how much CO2 is released as a result of this needless marketing to virtually no one? How much blood and treasure are sacrificed in Mideast misadventures to ensure a constant flow of oil to light the signs proclaiming "Peace on Earth"?

Question

If Jews are the chosen people of God, why would He forbid us from eating bacon?

Checking In

Hi all.


The Solipsist has arrived in the Pacific Northwest. We'll be on and off for the next couple of days but thought we'd take a moment to share this with everybody:


A bus-stop bench up here had a sign congratulating "Marshall," which we assume to be a local high school. Why? In recognition of the fact that "77% of your students don't smoke pot."

So, apparently, a marijuana-smoking rate of under 25% is big news for this area.


See you soon.

Something We Know Because of Movies

A diabolically brilliant criminal mastermind will inevitably choose a computer password so simple that any random do-gooder will be able to figure it out, usually just by looking around the supervillain's office.

**************************************
The Solipsist will be on the road tomorrow, so posting may be less regular than usual for the next week or so. In case we don't talk to you before then, all of you should have yourselves a merry little Christmas. TTFN.

Coolest Thing EVER

Nobody talked much about solipsists before the late-19th century. OK, presumably we were talking about ourselves, but we didn't get much play in the wider world. The highwater mark of solipsism's literary popularity apparently came in 1996: In that year, about 1/20,000 of one percent of the words used in books was "solipsism." Why this sudden popularity? Could it have something to do with America's highly popular, solipsistic commander-in-chief? (OK, Clinton was technically more of a narcissist, but there's a definite relationship?) And what explains the fact that, while "solipsism" trended up, "solipsist" trended down? A sign of people's preference for abstraction over individuals?

We can muse upon these questions thanks to Google's new "Books Ngram Viewer." Basically, this tool allows you to search through thousands upon thousands of digitized texts to see how often words or short phrases appear. It's a sort of concordance for the electronic age. ("Concordance," incidentally, has had a sort of up-and-down history. Its usage spikes around 1670 and then again about a hundred years later, before dipping into a trough from which it arose again around 1970. It had maintained its status since then--no stopping "concordance" now.)

Another fun fact: a little under 5% of the words used in Google's sample are the word "the." If we read this correctly, this means that if one reads twenty words, there's a good chance that one of those words is "the." Also, this 5% total (which is pretty huge if you think about it) is down from a high of about 6% in the mid-19th century. Why has "the" fallen into disfavor over the last 150 years? And why has the fall-off been less drastic in British books than in American? (Yup, you can look at that, too.)

We prefer Pepsi to Coke, but the latter is about 15 times more common than the former. And since 1977, when "Star Wars" hit theaters, the movie has been a steady topic--or, maybe not: The phrase reached its zenith in the late 1980s, when it occurs once every million words or so, but we suspect that may have something to do with President Reagan's plans for missile defense. As of 2008, though, the phrase was only slightly more common than "Star Trek"--and the latter doesn't even have geopolitical implications. (Also, "Star Wars" is more popular than "Star Trek" in French literature, but the numbers are reversed for Germans. Discuss.)

When Push Comes to Polling

Have you ever found yourself on the receiving end of a push poll? In case you don't know, a push poll is a classic feature of the political dirty-trick playbook: People are called and asked to participate in a seemingly impartial opinion poll. The questions, though, are designed to skew the results. Thus, supporters of Candidate A might call people and ask questions like, "If you found out that Candidate B liked to molest hamsters, would that make you more or less likely to vote for him?" They have thus planted the idea that Candidate B has some seriously aberrational proclivities; furthermore, when the pollsters receive overwhelmingly negative responses, they can disingenuously claim that, in a recent poll, a vast majority of people now express themselves "less likely" to vote for Candidate B.

(Even if the tactic backfires and generates a large positive response, the pollsters could always spin it and say that Candidate B is a favorite of hamster-molesters.)

We have never participated in a push poll, but we saw a slightly more subtle version of one the other day. At the Kaiser Permanente pharmacy, a sign encourages customers to fill out a survey that they will receive in the mail. It asks them to measure their level of satisfaction with various aspects of the pharmacy's services, using a typical scale: Very Dissatisfied, Dissatisfied, No Opinion, Satisfied, Very Satisfied. So far, so good.

The catch, though, is that, after each question, the survey makes the following request: "If you answered 'Dissatisfied' or 'Very Dissatisfied,' please explain what we could do to improve."

Ha!

We can just imagine the recipient: "Oh! A survey from those pharmacy bastards! They make me wait an hour and screw up my order every time! I am SO going to check off 'Very Dissatisfied'! I-- Wait. Oh, man, I have to write something? Sigh. Never mind . . . ."

All we're saying is, we would be far more interested to see how many people had "No Opinion" than how many were "Satisfied."

Here's to Your Health (Update)

When District Court Judge Henry Hudson ruled yesterday that an element of the health-care legislation--a requirement that all citizens purchase insurance--was unconstitutional, he may have had a point. Certainly, the thought of government forcing people to buy something whether they want it or not goes against a certain ideal of American freedom. But does the insurance mandate actually fail to pass constitutional muster?

Hudson pointed out that the mandate to buy health insurance differed from the seemingly similar requirement to buy auto insurance because people could choose not to own cars. You don't want to drive? You don't need to buy insurance. But if you choose to have a car, you have no choice but to purchase coverage. In contrast, the health-insurance mandate would apply to everyone and people could not opt out.

The flaw in this argument rests on the economic concept of externalities. In a perfect market, when two people freely engage in a transaction, each gains some measurable benefit: You have a pizza, the Solipsist has $10. You would rather have $10 than the pizza, and we would rather have the pizza than $10. We make the exchange, and everybody's happy. If, however, the pizza causes an unpleasant gastrointestinal event, and WOS has to suffer through it, then the pizza has a negative externality: A person uninvolved in the transaction (WOS) has suffered a "loss" (in this case, of breathable air) that the price of the pizza did not reflect. That is, we imposed a cost on WOS that we ourselves did not pay for.

This is what is known as a market failure: a case where the price of a commodity does not reflect all the costs imposed on society. When markets fail, governments step in. In the example described above, WOS might appeal to her elected representatives to remedy the situation by imposing a "gas tax" on any of the Solipsist's future pizza purchases. Instead of simply paying the pizza maker for the price of his goods and services, the Solipsist might be required to compensate WOS for the negative externalities she suffers--perhaps several hundred dollars per pizza. Fortunately, WOS has little pull with our local elected representatives.

So what does all this have to do with healthcare? Go back to Judge Hudson's distinction between health insurance and car insurance. The judge points out that a person can avoid buying car insurance by choosing not to buy a car. True enough. And what about externalities? In this case, there don't seem to be any. If the Solipsist's neighbor chooses not to buy a car, it's no skin off our back. The same can not be said of health insurance.

If our neighbor chooses not to purchase health insurance, it does impose costs on the rest of society. For one thing, it may dissuade our neighbor from seeking medical care when he or she has some highly contagious but treatable disease. More importantly, though, if our currently healthy neighbor chooses not to buy insurance, figuring he doesn't need it, then the insurance rates for everybody else go up. Indeed, with the health care legislation's mandate that insurers must cover everyone, regardless of health, the costs, as economics columnist David Leonhardt points out, will be even greater: Our neighbor will simply buy health insurance when he gets sick, imposing ALL of his costs on those people who chose to buy insurance earlier.

Of course, the major problem here is our continuing conflation of health insurance with health care: We need the latter; whether we NEED the former is a matter for serious debate. As long as we keep insisting on market-based solutions for our problems, it is incumbent upon legislators to address negative externalities and other market failures.

A Bit of Hope

As someone who spends an inordinate amount of time living in his own head, the Solipsist has always harbored a special dread of Alzheimer's disease. To paraphrase Woody Allen, our brain is our second favorite organ. The thought of no longer being able to think is frightening.

We were thus intrigued to read today of a number of potnetial breakthroughs in the battle against Alzheimer's. All this research remains in the experimental stage, but it does sound promising. Scientists have figured out that the overabundance of plaque, which gums up the brain's works and leads to the mental deterioration associated with Alzheimer's, may actually be a "drainage" problem. Researchers used to think that Alzheimer's sufferers, for whatever reason, produced too much of a protein called beta amyloid; now, they've figured out that, in fact, these patients produce about the same amount of beta amyloid as healthy folk--they just don't get rid of it as quickly. What this means for medicine is that scientists can take a two-pronged approach to combating the disease: They can work to slow production of beta amyloid, and/or they can look for ways to help speed the passage of the plaque out of the brain.

We realize it can't be as simple as it sounds. At the same time, though, we find something reassuring in the thought that, instead of some existential destroyer of a person's essential self, Alzheimer's may essentially be little more than an internal plumbing problem. With any luck, by the time we reach our elder years, the Roto Rooters of neurology will be able to snake out our synapses and prevent any decline into senility.

We Don't Want to Do Our Homework. . .

. . . so we're copying off a friend.

Emi Ha writes of her dislike of homework. To be specific, she dislikes having to deal with her children's homework; she doesn't mind her own.

(We mind our own, but we'll allow Emi Ha her moment of apple-polishing semi-studiousness.)

She brings up a good point, though: When did homework become a family activity? We remember doing our homework--or not doing it, as the case may be--with very little parental supervision. (Which, come to think of it, may explain the "not doing it" part.) Our mother would help if we needed it, and she would get suitably annoyed when the report card came informing her of our occasional homeworky lapses. But homework, as an extension of our school day, was OUR job, not hers.

One good thing that has come of excessive parental involvement in homework has been the movement to reduce excessive homework: Several hours a night is probably a bit much for most kids, especially those of the age of Emi Ha's interns. So if getting parents involved in homework has motivated them to petition schools to reduce the homework burden, great. But once unburdened, we say the kids are on their own.

They Call Him Flipper, Flipper, Flipper. . .

Rough day for the Solipsist. The high point was a two-hour nap. That's not self-pity: Naps are generally the best part of any day. Some comedian once noted that you know you're becoming an adult when you look forward to sleep.

Anyway, we woke up only to find our Jets losing to the Miami Dolphins. At least we didn't make a bet with ACOS this week. Regular readers will recall that, back in September, we made a bragging rights-type wager on the first Jets-Fish game of the season: The fan of the losing team had to post the logo of the winning team as his Facebook profile picture for a week, and each day's status update had to feature a lyric from a song about the winning team's hometown. The Jets won, and ACOS lived up to his end of the bargain.

We don't know if we would have honored the pact--not because we wouldn't want to. (We wouldn't, but that's beside the point.) Rather, because off the top of our head, we can only think of two songs with "Miami" in the title, and one of them is the theme from "Miami Vice." Not exactly a Cole-Porteresque trove of quotable lyrics, there.

Then again, we could have forced ACOS to find lyrics about East Rutherford, NJ, so in a sense he got off easy, too.

PS: We would like to extend a Solipsistic golf clap to the Chicago Bears. We REALLY appreciate your decision to start playing to your abilities today against the Patriots. What, you couldn't keep overachieiving for one more week?

Conspiracy Theory

This is Bernard Madoff, the man behind one of the biggest financial frauds in history:



This is "Sonja Kohn," an Austrian banker who originally portrayed herself as one of Madoff's victims, but who is now being sued as one of his biggest accomplices:


Again, Bernard Madoff:

"Sonja Kohn," a "self-made woman," according to The New York Times:


I'm sorry, are we the only one who sees this?

(Image of Madoff from wikipedia.org; image of "Sonja Kohn" from The New York Times)

Scenes from Grading

Yesterday and today, our students took a final writing exam. Today, the Solipsist, along with several of his colleagues, sat around for about three hours reading them. Herewith, a few highlights.

One of the writing prompts asked students to write an essay discussing some of the challenges faced by people living in poverty. One student wrote (we paraphrase slightly):

"It always makes me want to cry when I see those TV commercials with children hungry and starving. It makes me feel very sorry for them. Then I change the channel."

The other prompt asked students to think about a specific goal they have and to discuss the steps needed to achieve that goal. One of our colleagues made the following observation:

"I find it a little disturbing that so many people who want to be doctors can't spell the word 'career.'"

Another student wrote that, to achieve her goal, one of the steps she needed to take was to "believe in myself."

We know how she feels. The Solipsist often has difficulty believing in himself. Every morning, we have to go up to a cat and go "BOOGA BOOGA BOOGA." When the cat runs away, we feel a great sense of relief.

Grammar by Elvis

"Bentley said to Craig, 'Let him have it Chris.'
They still don't know today what he meant by this."

So begins Elvis Costello's "Let Him Dangle." The song, from the CD "Spike," tells the story of Eric Bentley and Chris Craig. Some years back, these two murdered a man named Sidney Miles--specifically, Craig killed Miles, following Bentley's command, cited above. At his trial, though, Bentley. who had already been placed under arrest at moment of the shooting, claimed that, when he said, "Let him have it," he meant, "Give him the gun. Surrender." The jury didn't buy that story, though: They found Bentley guilty of murder, and he was subsequently executed.

We cite the above story and its lyrical interpretation when we explain to our students the importance of unambiguous pronouns. It's not just good grammar; it could be a matter of life and death.

Medical Alert

An epidemic is sweeping Hollywood. It strikes actresses in their prime--and in their prime parts--at a time when they should have nothing to do but lay back, relax, and collect residuals. We refer, of course, to "Bloobs": the tendency of women's chestal areas to become inexplicably blurry after they appear on basic cable.

While the cause of this condition is unknown--we suspect the FCC released a virus into the water supply of various studios--the truly alarming fact is that the condition has spread from the rarefied world of the Hollywood starlet to the general population of anonymous women who go topless on the internet:

Not only this, but we have heard rumors that the virus has mutated. We have heard about reported cases of a similar condition, which has come to be called, "Blutts." We fear that "Blenis" can not be far behind.

Nation, we need to fight this scourge. Please, don't fall victim to "Bloobs." Doctors encourage people to perform regular self-checks and, should you find yourself getting soft around the edges, vigorous isometric exercises have proven successful in warding off Full-Blown Bloobs.

(Solipsist's Note: WOS coined the term "Bloobs" and "Blutts." We wanted to call the condition "Buzzkill" ourselves, but we were outvoted.)

(Image from dailymotion.com)

Social Insecurity Numbers

It pleases us greatly to see that the United States Army, the world's premier fighting force, has finally caught up with our local community college district. We figured out years ago that using a social security number for student identification was a bad idea. Students were subsequently assigned a seven-digit ID, which put at least a little more distance between them and fraudulent Nigerian princes who would part them from their money. Today we read that the army has recognized that social security numbers are dangerously insecure identifiers for military personnel. Wasting no time, the Defense Department has decreed that this will not stand! New identification numbers will be issued to al soldiers. . . by next May.

Sigh.

In the meantime, we invite service members to take the Solipsist's Facebook Fun Quiz, and feel free to supply your military ID.

Lowering the Bar

The Gulf Cup, a two-week soccer tournament just concluded in Yemen. The event is being hailed as a smashing success, primarily because no one was killed.

Seriously, according to the New York Times, people were so concerned about the seeming inevitability of disruptive terrorist strikes that they were literally preparing their wills before traveling to the tournament. Which raises the obvious question: If you need to prepare your will before heading to a soccer tournament, wouldn't you rather just stay home and watch the thing on TV?

We've all heard the pilot's maxim that any landing you can walk away from is a good one. We get that, but we still don't imagine that pilots brag about not crashing the plane.

Wikileaks: The Rest

Over the past week, the New York Times has run stories about the troves of diplomatic cables leaked by Wikileaks.org. We can't help but notice, however, that the Times has shown a clear bias in their reporting, focusing exclusively on cables related to countries like China, Iraq, the Koreas, Afghanistan, Yemen--you know, "interesting" countries. Relatively nothing has come from the diplomatic outposts of our less intransigent or confrontational neighbors in the community of nations.


Fear not, though, the Solipsist has gained access to these most sensitive of reports from our least sensitive of embassies. Herewith, a sampling.


Sometimes, foreign-service officers let their feelings get the best of them, as we see in this cable from a mid-level staffer in the US consulate in Paris:


March 2008: Attended a gala at the Presidential Palace last night. Could not help but notice that Carla Bruni-Sarkozy is FREAKIN HOTTTTTT!!!!!! I'm not talking "hot-for-a-First-Lady" hot, like Hilary [REDACTED] or Lady Bird [REDACTED]: I'm talking supermodel, leave-your-wife-for hot! I mean, if she weren't shacking up with, y'know, the POF [President of France] I would TOTALLY hit that. I'd be on her like flies on camembert. . . .




A somewhat common malady among longtime diplomats is "Graham Greene Syndrome." The most prominent sign of infection: a tendency of those stationed even in the least exotic postings to write world-weary reports in overly florid language. Consider this report from the director of the passport office in El Paso, TX:


June. . . June. . . I've forgotten the date. The days blur together like water lilies in a post-impresssionist painting. I look at the memo pad on my desk. It's actually May 17. Nelson comes into my office. He barely suppresses a sardonic grin as he hands me the stack of G-318's to sign off on. I picture him with Elise, on the porch of my house, sipping gin and tonic and thinking that they're getting away with something. It takes all my will to convince myself that I care.


Outside my office window, a blood red sun sets blindingly over the parking lot. The kids at the Jack in the Box across 17th Street move like phantoms behind the tinted glass. The constant stream of cars on the freeway sounds like nothing so much as a mass of automobiles streaming along miles of asphalt.


I processed only 17 H-19 (x)'s today. Down from 19 yesterday, but more than the 16 I did on Monday. As I pick up my jacket and head out for the night, I wonder if the world--my world--will still be here tomorrow, as it was today, as it might be for many days to come.


Other signs include increasing paranoia:


October 13, 2009: Lunch with the Canadian Minister of Travel and Tourism today. He was pleasant--too pleasant. He asked if we would be willing to help promote "Saskatchewan-a-thon," a nineteen-day festival of all things Saskatchewanee. I couldn't help but notice that he kept trying to make eye contact with the waiter--even after the waiter had filled his water glass. Obviously a spy.


Saskatchewan-a-thon is clearly nothing more than a pretext for a full-scale invasion. We should fortify the border, particularly in those states that lie near this supposed "Saskatchewan." A pre-emptive strike at the Canadian capitol--wherever that is--should be considered.


Finally, some leaked memoranda reveal embarrassing oversights in State Department programs:


February 13, 2009

TO: Secretary of State Hilary Rodham Clinton
FROM: [REDACTED]
RE: Hawaii


Regarding the staff meeting of February 7: After careful review, my staff and I have confirmed that you were right: Hawaii IS, in fact, a part of the United States. Preparations for closing the embassy have commenced.

(Image from Wikipedia)

The Solipsist's Facebook Fun Quiz

If you're on Facebook (or, as the kids say, "If you have a Facebook"), you've probably been "tagged" in someone's notes. Occasionally, these notes take the form of questionnaires about music or movies or just general personal trivia, a fun way to get to know more about the people you call "Friends"--especially if you've never actually met them.

As a service to those of you who don't yet have a Facebook, the Solipsist has composed his very own questionnaire so that he can get to know you a little better, and so that Sloppists can get to know each other. Please answer the questions in the comments section. Thanks!

The Solipsist's "Getting to Know the Nation" Funtime Questionnaire

1. What is your favorite color?

2. What is your favorite book?

3. What is your favorite movie?

4. What is your favorite movie NOT starring John Turturro?

5. Really?

6. What was your childhood nickname?

7. What is your current nickname?

8. What is your porn star name? (Feel free to fall back on the old formula of combining your childhood pet's name with a town/city you lived in as a child: The Solipsist is Pookie Melrose!)

9. Favorite band or musician?

10. Favorite actor/actress?

11. Favorite Secretary of Agriculture?

12. Rent or own?

13. Paper or Plastic?

14. Sunni or Shiite?

15. What is your social security number?

16. Where do you bank, and what is your checking account number (please include the routing number)?

17. What are the first sixteen digits of your Visa or Mastercard. . . and, uh, as long as you've got it out, what's the expiration date and security code?

18. Where at home do you keep cash or other valuables?

19. Planning a vacation?

20. When?

21. For how long?

22. If not, what time do you usually leave the house in the morning, and when do you come home?

23. Any large dogs or other security we should know about?

24. With whom did you have your greatest sexual experience?

25. If your answer to #24 was your current spouse/partner: No, seriously, who?

26. Really, we won't tell. Who?

27. What's your favorite blog?

28. OK, what's your favorite blog that rhymes with "Schmolipsist"?

29. Would it bother you if this questionnaire had only 29 questions instead of an even 30?

30. Does this make you feel better?

Thanks for participating!

Parallel Porn

Today in our writing workshop, we discussed parallelism:

"OK, folks, parallelism in writing refers to the idea that elements within sentences, and sometimes whole sentences themselves, should have the same basic structure. So, for example, listen to this sentence: 'I need you to wash the dishes, do the laundry, and dinner needs to be cooked.' Doesn't sound right, does it? That's because the sentence lacks parallel structure. A better sentence would be, 'I need you to wash the dishes, do the laundry, and cook dinner'--now you're listing three things that you need someone TO do.

"All right, let's practice. For these sentences, tell me where the parallelism 'breaks down,' and then suggest a way to fix it. Sentence number one: 'John is a great actor, a terrific dancer, and he sings well, too.' . . . Right, the parallelism breaks down after 'terrific dancer.' What could you say instead? . . . Good, 'John is a great actor, a terrific dancer, and a talented singer.' OK, next. 'Last night, Phil ate at a diner, went to a party, and his wallet was lost on his way home.' . . . Right, the sentence falls apart after 'party.' How could you fix it? Sure, '. . . went to a party, and lost his wallet on the way home.' All right, now how about this? 'When I was little, my mother was very strict with my father, my sister, and hard on me.' Yes, exactly, everything goes wrong after the 'hard on.'"

(Giggle, giggle, k-snrf! chortle)

"Oh, for god's sake, grow up people!"

(Image from wwwnew.towson.edu)

Cybertracks

The Federal Trade Commission has endorsed a plan that would allow consumers to "opt out" of being tracked during their browsing sessions. While internet users do have this capability now, many less-computer-savvy folks have trouble adjusting their privacy settings to turn off tracking. Hell, considering the steps outlined in the article, we suspect some relatively advanced users might have difficulty. The FTC's recommendation calls for the creation of something akin to the "Do Not Call" registry that allowed people to opt out of telephone solicitations: A simple, user-friendly mechanism that would enable people to choose not to have their internet movements tracked.

We consider privacy a good thing but wonder about unintended consequences. After all, many for-profit websites make money from advertisers, rather than by charging users fees to access their site. Thus, The New York Times provides free access to this article about opting out of internet tracking by selling space on the article to Ally Bank and JetBlue. Now, in theory, these ads would retain whatever value they currently have to the advertisers, who could of course continue advertising on the Times or any other site.

We assume, though, that many sites (we don't know about the Times specifically) make money by selling access to their users' browsing habits. Companies that buy this access compile information about these habits and then sell this information to others who use the data to market products more strategically.

That this is creepy goes without saying. That it provides a revenue stream to currently free websites and services makes us wonder what will happen when people start opting out. On the one hand, the ability to data mine may become less valuable as the amount of data decreases; on the other hand, whichever people choose NOT to opt out and thus remain in the "data pool" are presumably the most receptive (or naive) advertising targets--and correspondingly would be the most valuable people to reach.

Intriguing.

Full disclosure: The Solipsist HAS sold access to this website's followers to various marketers, in case you wondered why you all kept receiving solicitations from NAMBLA.

(Image from BuzzFeed)

From the "We Thought We Were Kidding" Department

Back on January 4, 2009, the Solipsist wrote the following:

Edsonville, NY, January 5--Following a record 19th straight unvictorious season, Erwin Bonk, Head Coach of South North Edsonville Technical College, readily admits to a sense of desperation. "I just really thought we'd do better than 0-13," Bonk explained at his regular postseason apologia, "especially since we only played 11 games."

SNET's record for futility has led the school to pursue a novel recruiting strategy. It recently offered a full scholarship to 2-year old Anson "Bunnypot" McGreevey, of Mrs. Piggywaddles' Daycare Center (class of '10).

"We know he's a ways off from matriculation," acknowledged SNET Athletic Director Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (no relation). "Still, in this kind of competitive atmosphere, and with the pressure on colleges to win now, or, at least, to win ever, we felt the need to be aggressive."

Though young, Bunnypot McGreevey has shown signs of an innate talent for football. At naptime, before falling asleep, he is frequently heard mumbling in a cadence resembling a snap count. Bonk, however, plans to put the toddler on the defensive side of the ball. "He's got a natural aggressiveness that you really like to see in a defensive tackle, plus the cocksure attitude of a free safety."

By way of illustration, Bonk pointed to the now-famous "Ballpit Meltdown" at McGreevey's 2nd birthday party. When 3-year-old Alison Tutwiler attempted to fake a handoff to her "Googah" (grandmother), Bunnypot came flying in on her blindside and leveled a devastating hit, causing a fumble (or, as McGreevey's mother Claudette called it, "an oopsie"). In the ensuing scramble, McGreevey's tenacity was again on full display, as he fought off a crew of three and four year olds, to recover the ball. On the changing table after the game, Bunnypot continued to clutch the red ball, explaining, "Mine! Mine! Miiiiiii-iiiiiiine!" before falling asleep.

With the heavy rotation of this video on YouTube and other services, Longfellow and other SNET administrators realized it was only a matter of time before McGreevey came to the attention of traditional college football powerhouses. "We figured, with his local roots, Bunnypot would be interested in committing to us, as long as we got to him before some of the so-called 'good' football programs had their chance."

SNET's offer includes tuition, room and board, a small stipend, and, at McGreevey's request, "a whale." Asked to comment on the scholarship offer, McGreevey threw his sippy cup at his "little girlfriend," Tina Mooney, and proceeded to chew on a block and make "gleeping" sounds.

When asked whether McGreevey's apparently abusive tendencies towards young girls was a source of concern for SNET, Bonk admitted that it was but that, with proper coaching, "Any young man can overcome a few personality flaws and become a skilled football player capable of rupturing an opponent's spleen."

Barring injury, SNET expects McGreevey to be ready for opening day in 2025, by which time the school's winless streak could be well over three-hundred games. "I'm looking forward to coaching the young man," Bonk said. When it was pointed out to the coach that Bonk would be 106 in McGreevey's freshman year, Bonk simply smiled and stared blankly at his questioner.

Des Moines, February 7--Mrs. Henrietta Toggles of Des Moines signed a letter of intent with Notre Dame on behalf of her son, Willie Moe. Willie Moe is expected to be born sometime in May. "Have you seen the ultrasounds of this kid's kicks?" exclaimed an anonymous Notre Dame spokesman. "Hell, when a missed field goal can mean the difference between playing on New Year's Day and playing on the day BEFORE New Year's Day, we'd be remiss in our duties NOT to sign the fetus!"

And, we all had a good laugh. Until we saw this article in today's Times, "Sports Training Has Begun for Babies and Toddlers." Please check it out at your convenience. Not only does it firmly establish YNSHC as a prophetic voice declaiming in the wilderness, but it also contains this gem, a candidate for "Perfect Sentence" if we've ever heard one:

“We’re not suggesting your kid will turn pro; we have to be careful about that,” said Gigi Fernandez, a former professional tennis player, who is one of the founders of Baby Goes Pro."

Musings

Ladies, if a guy gives you a partridge in a pear tree for Christmas, it's probably time to rethink that whole "true love" thing.

Surely, We Can't Be Serious

The worst--truly worst--part of the post-Thanksgiving period, though, is not Black Friday. No, far more intolerable is the apparent need for every radio station, regardless of format, to fill large swaths of airtime with Christmas songs. Look, we love Bruce Springsteen, but one can only listen to his version of "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town" so many times before going on a killing spree. Yes, the Big Man has been good and can expect a new saxophone, already!



In other news, Leslie Nielsen died. Funny to think that, to members of the Solipsist's generation, he is revered as a brilliant (if Canadian) deadpan comic, whereas to our parents' generation, he was a B-movie romantic lead. We recall him hosting "Saturday Night Live" once and poking fun at his career transition. "If I'm in a serious drama, for example, I might say a line like this." He then recited some meaningless piece of dialogue. "If I'm doing a comedy," he continued, "I would say the line like this." He then proceeded to say the line in exactly the same way. Priceless.


F0r Nielsen, life truly began again after the age of 50. There's hope for us all, yet.

Uncertainty

This past Friday evening, a Somali-born, would-be terrorist failed to detonate a car-bomb at a tree-lighting ceremony in Portland, Oregon. He failed primarily because his accomplices actually worked for the FBI.

Mohamed Osman Mohamud was the target of a sting operation that began in earnest this past summer. The FBI had been surveilling Mohamud for almost a year, ever since they had intercepted e-mails he had exchanged with a known terrorist recruiter. Knowing of Mohamud's jihadist desires, the FBI made contact and watched (and occasionally assisted) as he planned his post-Thanksgiving attack. Agents helped him plant the car bomb (in reality a fake device) and arrested him shortly after the bomb was set to go off.

Obviously, law enforcement officials must keep a close eye on suspicious characters--especially those who go so far as to express interest in receiving training in terrorist techniques. Furthermore, the FBI claims Mohamud initiated all the major steps in the attack. According to the article in today's paper, agents gave Mohamud numerous opportunities to back out, encouraging him, for example, to wage his holy war through prayer or reminding him that there would be numerous children present at the site of his attack (to which Mohamud allegedly claimed his indifference). Still, this story is troubling.

The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle states, in essence, that an observer, simply by observing an action, affects the action being observed. If mere observation alters an action, then how much greater is the effect when the the observer gets involved? Certainly, Mohamud comes across as a bad dude. But if the FBI agents hadn't come along, how far would he have gone? He might have pursued his plot anyway. Alternatively, he might have become just another grumbling dissident, muttering imprecations under his breath while others stand for the Pledge of Allegiance. We more than understand the need to err on the side of caution, but we wonder if the FBI could have accomplished the same results simply by observing Mohamud and stepping in to arrest him (and any actual accomplices) before they could launch their attack.

What if someone comes up to you and says, "I'd really like to kill John Smith"?

"Well, why don't you?"

"Because I don't have a knife."

"Oh, well, I have a knife. Here."

Then, as your interlocutor heads over to John Smith and prepares to stab him, you, undercover cop that you are, whip out your gun and arrest him.

Have you prevented a murder? Quite likely. But if you hadn't given the potential killer the murder weapon, who's to say that the idle speculation would not have remained just that? Uncertainty is a tricky thing.

(Image from Sigma Xi)

Black Indeed

Remember when "Black Friday" was a term of art? We do. We remember grown-ups talking about how the Friday after Thanksgiving was the busiest shopping day of the year. And we remember someone--probably our father--explaining the term "Black Friday": the day that merchants could count on getting into "the black" (i.e., out of "the red" or debt) for the year. Stores would offer bargains, and people would make it a point to head out early. ("We're going to leave the house by 8:30 to make sure we're at the mall when it opens at 9:00!") We remember a comparatively simple time.

Now, people line up 7,000 strong at Macy's flagship store. Now, store employees literally take their lives in their hands when they open the doors to the waiting mobs. Now, the family meal has become for many simply a chance to carbo-load in anticipation of an all-nighter camped out in front of Best Buy, lest one miss out on the chance--the chance--to buy a 52" digital television for the unheard-of price of $699.00.

Do people realize they are lining up for the privilege of giving someone else money?

We realize we leave ourselves open to charges of hypocrisy with this post. After all, we type this column on a netbook (purchased earlier this year for about $250). We listen to music on an iPod ($180). We own a high-definition television, and we drive a fairly new car (although the fact that it's a Prius at least allows us to maintain that we're doing right by the environment). But we did not (and, God-willing, never will) shop on Black Friday.

"Black" describes not just the merchants' balance sheets; it also describes the feelings the day inspires.

(Image from EdinburghGuide.com)

Brinksmanship

In 1990, Iraq invaded Kuwait. Then-President George H. W. Bush drew a "line in the sand," letting the Iraqis know that their naked aggression "would not stand." While Bush could (and did) wrap himself in the mantle of human-rights defender, foreign-policy realists knew it was all about the oil: Kuwait's an oil-producing state that borders the Mecca of oil-production, Saudi Arabia. Like it or not, for Bush not to have threatened Saddam Hussein would have been an act of foreign-policy malpractice.

Flash forward twenty years. The US busily prosecutes two wars, one an unprovoked attack on that same Iraq because Bush, Jr., felt the need to finish off Daddy's business; the other a semi-provoked war in the wasteland of Afghanistan. In both places, US involvement is at best tolerated and at worst openly hated. A majority of Americans thinks it's high time for the troops to come home.

What's striking, in light of recent events, is how quick the US administration was to mass troops along the border of Saudi Arabia--a fundamentally despotic regime with medieval ideas about women, Jews, and, frankly, personal freedoms--and how comparatively restrained they act when North Korea launches an unprovoked attack on South Korea, a staunch ally and thriving democracy.

Sure, the US has made some symbolic shows of solidarity and called for further sanctions against the North. But isn't it about time for the US--indeed, the entire international community--to state firmly and unequivocally that this aggression, too, will not stand? To tell North Korea once and for all that any further unprovoked attacks will be met with overwhelming force?

What about Seoul? The main objection to outright belligerence towards the North is that the paranoid regime, if cornered, might launch an all-out attack that would destroy Seoul, the capitol of the South. A legitimate concern. Remember, though, that the North Korean regime mainly cares about maintaining its hold on power--indeed, most analysts feel this week's attacks were launched to help establish the militaristic credentials of the next "Dear Leader," Kim Jong-il's son. As seemingly out-of-touch as these leaders are, however, they know that any attack on Seoul will be met with overwhelming force from the US, which will mean the end of the regime.

More to the point, no one can state with certainty that the North won't launch an attack on Seoul anyway. We assume the South Korean government has planned for this very scenario and has steps to minimize the loss of civilian life. It may be time to put those plans into effect.

What ab0ut China? In the Korean War, the US and its allies weren't really fighting North Korea: They fought China. Even now, China remains the one country with anything like normal relations with the isolationist North. A concern in diplomatic circles is that, if the US comes down too hard on the North, China will react badly. Frankly, though, it's kind of China's fault the North is acting badly. China could say to North Korea, "Look, you keep this up, you're on your own." That might get the Kims' attention.

China doesn't want to see the North destabilized because they don't want a flood of refugees crossing the Yalu River. Presumably, China also likes having North Korea as a buffer zone between itself and democratic, Western-backed South Korea. But what would China do if the South, backed by the US, just said enough is enough and sought to topple the Kim regime? Today's China didn't exist in 1950: The leaders now are still nominally Communist, but they're motivated less by ideology than by economics. China is the number two economy in the world: Will they really throw that away for the sake of the lunatic regime to their south?

Hell, the South could cut a deal with China and let them install the leader of their choice in the North. Yes, it would be nice if North Korea merged with South Korea to form a functional democracy on the entire Korean Peninsula. But given a choice between the Krazy Kims and a puppet regime ruled from Beijing, most people would probably prefer the latter.

North Korea has some parallels with Afghanistan: Both are resource-poor nations that, because of extremist governments, have assumed a disproportionate level in world affairs. It's North Korea's turn to decide whether it wants to become a responsible member of the community of nations.

Happy T-Day

We suppose we ought to write some kind of treatise on the holiday, but what can you say about Thanksgiving that hasn't been said a thousand times before?

Some trivia: Did you know that the First Thanksgiving was actually a Seder?

What?

Oh, never mind: That was the Last Supper.

(We didn't know Jesus was a Pilgrim.)

Also, Tea Partiers would have you believe that the original Pilgrims were Socialists who came to see the error in collectivized living. This, of course, is nonsense. The Pilgrims, as you might expect of people forging a new life in a strange wilderness, people frequently delirious with hunger to boot, experimented with various different forms of governance and societal organization.

One of the more notable experiments involved the use of the "Speaking Badger": Executive authority was invested in whatever male over the age of 30 was holding the badger. Indeed, this is where the expression, "Uneasy sleeps the man who holds the badger" comes from: Between the frequent assassination attempts and, let's face it, the fact that he was holding a 50 pound animal with sharp claws and teeth, the badger-holders were seldom able to concentrate long enough to push through any sort of legislative agenda.

Hope you all enjoyed your turkey!

(Image from HeatherCherry.blogspot.com. We tried to find something more appropriate, but you try finding any images of pilgrims holding badgers.)

Call Yourself a Mesozoic Killing Machine!

Alligators ought to be ashamed of themselves.


This morning, we overheard a commercial for the California Academy of Sciences. They have an albino alligator named Claude. Only for the Christmas season, they've renamed the little guy "Santa Claude." And that publicity photo makes him look just shamelessly adorable.

At least Claude lives alone. Check out this video, and imagine the crap that this poor fellow must have caught from his swampy brethren.

"Dude, that was a CAT! You EAT those things!"

Show some gator pride, fellas!

(Image from California Academy of Sciences)

The Tefillin Should Have Been a Dead Giveaway

"American officials say they were skeptical from the start about the identity of the man who claimed to be Mullah Mansour — who by some accounts is the second-ranking official in the Taliban, behind only the founder, Mullah Mohammed Omar. Serious doubts arose after the third meeting with Afghan officials, held in the southern city of Kandahar. A man who had known Mr. Mansour years ago told Afghan officials that the man at the table did not resemble him. “He said he didn’t recognize him,” said an Afghan leader, who spoke on the condition of anonymity. "
---"Taliban Leader in Secret Talks Was an Impostor" The New York Times, November 23, 2010

Furthermore, "Mr. Mansour," known throughout Central Asia for his fearsome demeanour and merciless attitude toward "Infidels," lacked a certain physical "presence."

Other possible clues to the imposture become obvous in retrospect:

--For lunch, Mr. "Mansour" requested a Reuben sandwich, despite the fact that, according to the CIA's dossier, the terrorist despises Russian dressing.

--"Mr." Mansour repeatedly mispronounced "Taliban."

--Mr"." Mansour said he would help broker formal peace talks between the Taliban ("Tellybone") and the Afghan government, but only if Hamid Karzai would give him his cape.

Seriously, though, how the negotiators couldn't have figured out that Mansour was a fake when he showed up with his Korean daughter is beyond us-- What's that? His WIFE?!? OK, that's just sick.

(Image from Listal.com)

Picture This, Too

With all the foofaraw (sorry for the technical language) over the Transportation Security Administration's new full-body scans, it seems people have forgotten a basic premise of terrorism: As soon as law-enforcement figures out how to thwart one tactic, the bad guys just come up with a new one. Since these Pillsbury-Doughboy-esque renditions of the human form theoretically prevent people from boarding planes with explosives woven into their underwear, attackers will simply come up with a new method. We only half-sarcastically express a fear of edible explosives. Why not? For that matter, since Al Qaeda and its ilk have discovered they can cause untold billions of dollars worth of economic misery simply with a failed attack on cargo planes, why would they bother to try outsmarting the latest high-tech security system? Why do we bother with semi-prurient x-rays of those headed for flyover country?

There has to be a better way.

Jets Football: Torture (A Brief Post)

By pretty much any metric, the New York Jets have proven themselves one of the elite teams in the NFL. (Now there's a sentence we would never have imagined ourselves typing.) Still, their more-than-respectable 8-2 record belies the drama of the last month's worth of games: A last-second win against Denver occasioned by an egregious pass-intereference call; overtime wins agains two of the weaker teams in the NFL (Detroit and Cleveland); and today's come-from-behind victory over Houston with under a minute left in the game.

Maybe the Jets are taking a page from the World Series champion Giants: Torturing their fans seemed to work well for them.

Picture This

Remember the school photograph? That invariably embarrassing remnant of your awkward years, always within easy reach of your mother, so she could whip it out for your girlfriend whom you've brought over for dinner despite your overwhelming dread that your mother would do just this very thing and show this woman, this goddess, this girl of your dreams that horrible picture of you in that mysteriously stained Snoopy sweatshirt with the braces and the bowl haircut and the. . . .

Sorry. Painful memories. Where were we? Oh, yeah. The school photograph.

So, anyway, the horribly awkward school photograph may soon become just another quaint relic of 20th-century life like rotary phones and America's high standing in the world. Now even this most hallowed symbol of childhood innocence has become the preserve of the retouchers. Photographers shamelessly offer parents the chance to alter their children's class photos, eliminating unsightly cowlicks, scabs, and signs of parental abuse.

Sure, when Stalin did it, he was "horrible"; when parents do it. . . .

Honestly, though, we say it's about time! Consider the possibilities! Let's say little Gertrude forgets to smile in her school picture. And maybe she had a bad hair day. And her new glasses broke, so she had to wear her horrible old Coke-bottle lenses. Well, just slip the photographer a few bucks, let him do his digital magic, and, Voila!, Little Gertrude becomes the belle of Mrs. Rosenberg's first-grade class:

Actually, the Solipsist has been meaning to post a picture of himself. Hold on. . . .We're just going to snap a picture of ourselves. . . .There! Now, let's lose the glasses. . . . Hmmm. . . . Maybe we should make the eyebrows a bit darker. . . . The salt-and-pepper hair is fine, but let's thicken it a bit. . . .Oh, and let's fill in the five-o'clock shadow, too. The chin could be a little "squarer.". . .Oh, what the hell, let's make the whole jawline a bit more angular. There! Perfect:

(WOS: Seriously, you need to do something about this Clooney fixation.)

(Image of dorky kid from the New York Times; image of "Little Gertrude" from Askmen.com; new picture of Solipsist from The Telegraph.)

Found Perfection (A Brief Post)

As longtime followers know--

(DIGRESSION: And at this point, you're all longtime followers--we haven't gotten a new recruit in ages. The Solipsist needs fresh blood! Get on this, People! EOD)

(ADDITIONAL DIGRESSION: We sounded a little vampiric, just then. The Solipsist is not a vampire! Although he would like to be one. Get on this, too, People! EOAD)

--we have a semi-regular feature wherein we attempt to find "perfect sentences." It occured to us the other day, though, that we should not restrict our perfection-quest to matters linguistic. The world is full of perfection if one only allows oneself to spot it.

The human eye, for example, is so gosh-darn perfect that creationists hold it out as proof of God's existence, as nothing so thoroughly spot-on could conceivably have come about through something as messy as natural selection. (Why this should be the case is unclear to us, but willfully ignorant pseudo-scientists work in mysterious ways.) The egg, too, is a model of structural perfection--and it tastes great with cheese. And let us not overlook microwave popcorn; seriously, whoever came up with that one just, y'know, couldn't have done better.

So keep your perfect eyes out for more perfection, Solipsist Nation. And fry yourself up an omelet: You might get hungry during the search.

(Perfect image of a perfect egg from UNC's Health Care Weblog. And a perfect website it is, too!)

Being Sam Keller

A few years back, a fantasy baseball league sued Major League Baseball. Fantasy leagues allow average joes to play general manager by assembling teams of professional athletes. The fantasy-leaguers earn points (or something--we don't play ourselves, so this is purely uninformed speculation) based on how well the various players on their virtual teams perform in the real world. Back in 2005, MLB wanted, in effect to corner the market in fantasy baseball for itself and restrict competing leagues from using the statistics of major-league players--essentially putting these competitors out of business. The courts correctly ruled against Major League Baseball, finding that statistics are public information and that no corporation could claim ownership of those facts.

MLB overreached, but they based their argument on a more accepted principle: the right of people to control the use of their image, particularly in commercial ventures. While fantasy leagues have the right to use public information like player stats, they presumably would not have the right to use pictures of actual players in promoting their product--at least without compensating the players. A question, though: What happens when the statistics ARE the image?

Last year, a former college football quarterback, Sam Keller, sued the video game publisher Electronic Arts, claiming that they misappropriated his image for an NCAA Football video game. The catch is that, technically, EA can claim that they didn't. NCAA rules, you see, prohibit the game developers from using players' names, so strictly speaking the "athlete" portrayed in NCAA Football was not "Sam Keller"--it was just an avatar wearing his jersey number, with his height, weight, stats, and playing style. In effect, EA could claim that all they did was utilize the public information, statistics, to program a player for use in its game.

Where that argument would fail, we think, is in the fact that so much "incidental" information went into the avatar's programming: things like Keller's jersey number and hometown, for example. We wonder, though, what would happen if the game's developers had created a virtual player that looked nothing like Keller, but that was programmed with Keller's stats? Theoretically, there would be no lawsuit. At the same time, there would be less interest in the game.

Part of the appeal of these hyper-realistic sports video games lies in the fact that you get to "play" as your favorite player. A video game that incorporated all the actual statistics but displayed generic-looking athletes would presumably not find as much popularity as one that utilized player likenesses--even if you could play as a really cool avatar like. . . well, like those avatars from "Avatar." And you know James Cameron would take a piece of that action.

Let's not keep pretending that college sports is anything other than big business and that college athletes--particularly in the big-money sports like football and basketball--are in any meaningful way different from the professional athletes they hope one day to be. If a game company's business model derives profit from the use of these folks' images, they should be compensated just like anyone else.

(Image from Fansided.com)

Why Can't We Not Be Friends?

As Lady Macbeth did not say, "Come, you spirits / That tend on mortal thoughts! Unfriend me here." If she had, though, today the spirits would have had the opportunity.

Today was National Unfriend Day. Talk-show host Jimmy Kimmel proclaimed today a day for people across the Facebook universe to declutter their lives by removing from their friends lists all but one's actual friends. In other words, if you don't know someone in real life, you have no reason to keep them around your virtual life.

A new holiday that celebrates misanthropy! We love it!

We think this needs to cross into meatspace. Think about it! No more messy breakups, no more awkward partings. Every November 17 from now on should provide people the opportunity to make a clean, no-muss no-fuss break with. . .whomever!

"Sweetheart, it's neither you nor me: It's just an unfriending."

"Listen, Phil. You're not being fired--just unfriended."

"Mom, it's been a great 37 years, but it's just not working for me anymore."

We'll see you tomorrow, folks: National Refriending Day.

(Image from Enterakt)