As you all know from reading this blog, I eschew ideologically based politics as much as possible. I believe that facts, data, numbers, history and evidence should be the deciding factors in policy decisions, and that conservatism and liberalasim, and to some extent even centricism, are just excuses to ignore facts, data, numbers, history and evidence. To my friends on the left, I am frustratingly centrist, while my friends on the right see me as a raging liberal, though, in my defense, for some of these people the word "liberal" can be defined as "disagrees with FOX." But I see myself as a person who is shaped by evidencial information and little else. That self image has been recently challenged.
A lot of my information comes from the blogs that I read. I follow Mark Thoma, Ezra Klein, Paul Krugman, Brad deLong, and Jared Bernstein, who are all economists. For politics I have David Frum et al, and Nicholas D. Kristof focuses on international humanitarian concerns. Each of those, in turn has links to many many other sources. Last week Mark Thoma wrote a response to another blog from Heather Parton, who writes under the pen name Digby, who in turn was writing about an article by Chris Mooney, adapted from his new book, The Republican Brain: The Science of Why They Deny Science—and Reality, due out in April from Wiley. (Did you follow all that?) In this article, Mr. Mooney argues that the thing that I believe separates me from the liberals is in fact the very thing that makes me a liberal.
"I can still remember when I first realized how naïve I was in thinking—hoping—that laying out the “facts” would suffice to change politicized minds... It was a typically wonkish, liberal revelation: One based on statistics and data... Liberals, to quote George Lakoff, subscribe to a view that might be dubbed “Old Enlightenment reason.” They really do seem to like facts; it seems to be part of who they are."
Digby says: "Ultimately, this is about tribalism, feeling part of a group, being validated by it and thinking and behaving in ways that preserve your place in it. We all do it to some extent; we're social animals and we usually have a strong need to belong to a larger group. But how we process information is important and something that good political strategists understand instinctively.
The simple rule is this: if you want to persuade liberals of something, bring out the charts and spreadsheets. If you want to persuade conservatives of something, make them identify emotionally with what you want them to believe. And by the way, there's no such thing as "independents" who can be persuaded of anything. 90% of them are conservatives or liberals who either don't know it or won't wear the label and the rest are too clueless and capricious to be persuaded of anything."
This is the part where I start whining like Jerry Seinfeld, "But I don't wanna be a liberal." But then Mark Thoma comes to my rescue a little bit:
"So, for Republicans it appears to be more about signaling by taking extreme positions than truth telling. What I'm less sure about is the claim that the way to convince liberals is to 'bring out the charts and spreadsheets.' Perhaps, but I think emotional appeal is important here as well. What do you think?"
What I think is that one of my dearest friends in the world is also probably the most liberal person I've ever known. His Facebook is full of rather extreme posts -- opinions to which he is emotionally dedicated. Sometimes he hits the mark, frequently not. But I have been forbiden to comment on his posts because of my pedanticism. If I'm going to disagree, he just doesn't want to discuss it.
Paul Krugman is a self-described liberal, but, like Brad deLong, he has a very low opinion of people -- especially policy makers -- who let their ideologies trump the evidence (and the math). In his post This Tribal Nation he quotes Christy Romer from her speech laying out what we know about the effects of fiscal policy.:
"The one thing that has disillusioned me is the discussion of fiscal policy. Policymakers and far too many economists seem to be arguing from ideology rather than evidence. As I have described this evening, the evidence is stronger than it has ever been that fiscal policy matters—that fiscal stimulus helps the economy add jobs, and that reducing the budget deficit lowers growth at least in the near term. And yet, this evidence does not seem to be getting through to the legislative process.
That is unacceptable. We are never going to solve our problems if we can’t agree at least on the facts. Evidence-based policymaking is essential if we are ever going to triumph over this recession and deal with our long-run budget problems."
So am I a liberal? Compared to some, yes; to others, not so much. I guess it's really going to depend on how others see me. The thing I don't like about labels is that once you have one, people think they know what you think. But if Mr. Mooney and Ms. Parton are correct, then, well, I guess I can live with it.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
How the Weekend Panned Out
It's six in the morning on a Wednesday. I've had the last two nights off, for which I am grateful. Much of last year my weekends were split because of my counterpart's school schedule and other availability problems. This is the third week in a row that I've had two days off together, and I've been making the most of them. The biggest problems, as usual, are sleep and computer, both of which can really screw up the way I use my time.
This morning I've been up since 3:30, and I've spent all of the last three hours on the computer. I cleaned out my message page on Facebook and my email inbox. Some of what was there became the previous blog post.
I didn't expect to be up this early, and I'm still in my pajamas. I'd like to get dressed and go work on the projects I've been busy with this weekend, but I don't want to wake Gaby. If I wait till the sun comes up I won't have to turn on a light to find my clothes, and I can be quiet enough to let him sleep.
We weren't been very happy with each other yesterday, but to explain why requires a bit of background.
I own some ancient cookware, some of which is at least thirteen years old, and it was cheap stuff to begin with. Naturally, much of the non-stick surface is worn away. He says it's because I use metal utensils (which I do occasionally, but not often enough to warrant concern), but I believe it's because they're old and cheap.
Recently we aquired some new expensive cookware, but they are rarely used unless the old and cheap ones are dirty. Overnight, while he was asleep, I made some mashed potatoes in one of the new expensive saucepans because I couldn't find the old and cheap one that I really wanted to use. Our potato masher happens to be metal, but it has no sharp edges and I used it carefully, and then used a plastic spatula to scoop out the potatoes.
As soon as the sun was up, I threw myself into a woodworking project that I'd been wanting to get to for some time, and while all of my mental and physical energies were being thrown into this project, he came out to complain about my use of that saucepan. Naturally all he got from me was a blank stare because I didn't know what he expected me to do about it while I was completely engaged in something else. He then came out with one of our cheap but brand new frying pans and attacked the surface of it with a metal fry scooper. That was uncalled for, and I could have said something about it, but, as I said, I was busy.
When I got to a stopping point, I came in for lunch, and checked Facebook. He had posted about how difficult it was to live with someone who didn't care about what he cared about. That's ridiculous. Not caring and completely disagreeing are two different things. I typed back, "Not guilty." He later deleted that post.
I spent the rest of the afternoon working on my project, and was pretty pleased with how it was going. I had one setback, but it was easily fixed, and I discovered that I was out of paint, so I had to go to Lowe's. When I got to my next stopping point, I was starving. It was at that moment that he asked me to fix the window on the front of the house.
He pointed out later that I could have said no. And he was right. I could have told him how hungry I was. I could have told him that we didn't have all the materials we needed, and that I didn't want to spend any more money at Lowe's or the time or gasoline it took to get there. I could have just told him I had other plans. But I didn't, for two reasons.
First, we have a different approach to things. He wants something done, I want it done well. The result is that I will put things off until I have the time, the resources, and the mental focus to get it done. (This is a form of procrastination common to Frustrated Perfectionists.) He, on the other hand, has too much time on his hands, and I was a little afraid of what the result might be. (I was mad enough that I actually said something to him about this where I wouldn't have normally. He was a bit offended.)
Second, and most importantly, I didn't want to give him more ammo for his "he doesn't care" rant.
On top of that, we were running out of daylight, and if we were going to do it, we had to do it right then. Ultimately the project came out just fine. We worked together, and we were very pleased with the results. It just needs some paint.
Later I found this on his Facebook:
Gabriel Guerrero-Savage
According to psychologists and psychiatrists, it is healthy to gripe about the things that bother you with your spouse. Things about him or her that makes you feel unappreciated, etc. They say it's better than keep [sic] them to yourself because that can get you physically and emotionally sick. Then you start hiding thing from them and growing apart. But they don't say what's next after you have griped! hehehe
2 people like this.
Saúl Peña The "cold shoulder" maybe?
Gabriel Guerrero-Savage Yes Saúl, I'm afraid that's what we got...
Saúl Peña Things will go back to normal real soon. Don't worry. It's part of the process.
Thing is, I wasn't giving him the cold shoulder. I was just preoccupied.
This morning I've been up since 3:30, and I've spent all of the last three hours on the computer. I cleaned out my message page on Facebook and my email inbox. Some of what was there became the previous blog post.
I didn't expect to be up this early, and I'm still in my pajamas. I'd like to get dressed and go work on the projects I've been busy with this weekend, but I don't want to wake Gaby. If I wait till the sun comes up I won't have to turn on a light to find my clothes, and I can be quiet enough to let him sleep.
We weren't been very happy with each other yesterday, but to explain why requires a bit of background.
I own some ancient cookware, some of which is at least thirteen years old, and it was cheap stuff to begin with. Naturally, much of the non-stick surface is worn away. He says it's because I use metal utensils (which I do occasionally, but not often enough to warrant concern), but I believe it's because they're old and cheap.
Recently we aquired some new expensive cookware, but they are rarely used unless the old and cheap ones are dirty. Overnight, while he was asleep, I made some mashed potatoes in one of the new expensive saucepans because I couldn't find the old and cheap one that I really wanted to use. Our potato masher happens to be metal, but it has no sharp edges and I used it carefully, and then used a plastic spatula to scoop out the potatoes.
As soon as the sun was up, I threw myself into a woodworking project that I'd been wanting to get to for some time, and while all of my mental and physical energies were being thrown into this project, he came out to complain about my use of that saucepan. Naturally all he got from me was a blank stare because I didn't know what he expected me to do about it while I was completely engaged in something else. He then came out with one of our cheap but brand new frying pans and attacked the surface of it with a metal fry scooper. That was uncalled for, and I could have said something about it, but, as I said, I was busy.
When I got to a stopping point, I came in for lunch, and checked Facebook. He had posted about how difficult it was to live with someone who didn't care about what he cared about. That's ridiculous. Not caring and completely disagreeing are two different things. I typed back, "Not guilty." He later deleted that post.
I spent the rest of the afternoon working on my project, and was pretty pleased with how it was going. I had one setback, but it was easily fixed, and I discovered that I was out of paint, so I had to go to Lowe's. When I got to my next stopping point, I was starving. It was at that moment that he asked me to fix the window on the front of the house.
He pointed out later that I could have said no. And he was right. I could have told him how hungry I was. I could have told him that we didn't have all the materials we needed, and that I didn't want to spend any more money at Lowe's or the time or gasoline it took to get there. I could have just told him I had other plans. But I didn't, for two reasons.
First, we have a different approach to things. He wants something done, I want it done well. The result is that I will put things off until I have the time, the resources, and the mental focus to get it done. (This is a form of procrastination common to Frustrated Perfectionists.) He, on the other hand, has too much time on his hands, and I was a little afraid of what the result might be. (I was mad enough that I actually said something to him about this where I wouldn't have normally. He was a bit offended.)
Second, and most importantly, I didn't want to give him more ammo for his "he doesn't care" rant.
On top of that, we were running out of daylight, and if we were going to do it, we had to do it right then. Ultimately the project came out just fine. We worked together, and we were very pleased with the results. It just needs some paint.
Later I found this on his Facebook:
Gabriel Guerrero-Savage
According to psychologists and psychiatrists, it is healthy to gripe about the things that bother you with your spouse. Things about him or her that makes you feel unappreciated, etc. They say it's better than keep [sic] them to yourself because that can get you physically and emotionally sick. Then you start hiding thing from them and growing apart. But they don't say what's next after you have griped! hehehe
2 people like this.
Saúl Peña The "cold shoulder" maybe?
Gabriel Guerrero-Savage Yes Saúl, I'm afraid that's what we got...
Saúl Peña Things will go back to normal real soon. Don't worry. It's part of the process.
Thing is, I wasn't giving him the cold shoulder. I was just preoccupied.
So Wrong
It Made My Day - Little Moments of WIN – Chuck G.
itmademyday.com
A friend of mine told me how he rear ended another car yesterday. The person he hit happened to be a midget. The guy got out of his car and walked to my friend’s window, looked up and said, “I am not happy.” To which my friend replied, “Then which one are you?”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
All drugs have two names, a trade name and generic name.Example, the trade name is Tylenol and its generic name is Acetaminophen. Aleve is also called Naproxen.
Amoxil is also called Amoxicillin and Advil is also called Ibuprofen.
The FDA has been looking for a generic name for Viagra.
After careful consideration by a team of government experts, it recently announced that it has settled on the generic name of Mycoxafloppin.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bill and his wife Blanche went to the state fair every year, and every year Bill would say, "Blanche, I'd like to ride in that helicopter."
Blanche always replied, "I know, Bill, but that helicopter ride is fifty bucks,and fifty bucks is fifty bucks!"
One year Bill and Blanche went to the fair, and Bill said, "Blanche, I'm 75 years old. If I don't ride that helicopter, I might never get another chance."
To this, Blanche replied, "Bill that helicopter ride is fifty bucks, and fifty bucks is fifty bucks."
The pilot overheard the couple and said, "Folks I'll make you a deal. I'll take the both of you for a ride. If you can stay quiet for the entire ride, and don't say a word, I won't charge you a penny! But if you say one word it's fifty dollars." Bill and Blanche agreed and up they went.
The pilot did all kinds of fancy maneuvers, but not a word was heard. He did his daredevil tricks, but still not a word.
When they landed, the pilot turned to Bill and said, "By golly, I did everything I could to get you to yell out, but you didn't. I'm impressed!"
Bill replied, "Well, to tell you the truth I almost said something when Blanche fell out, but you know, Fifty bucks is fifty bucks!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SLEEPING WITH BOB The guys were all at a deer camp. No one wanted to room with Bob, because he snored so badly. They decided it wasn't fair to make one of them stay with him the whole time, so they voted to take turns.
The first guy slept with Bob and comes to breakfast the next morning with his hair a mess and his... eyes all bloodshot. They said, "Man, what happened to you? He said, "Bob snored so loudly, I just sat up and watched him all night." The next night it was a different guy's turn. In the morning, same thing, hair all standing up, eyes all bloodshot. They said, "Man, what happened to you? You look awful! He said, 'Man, that Bob shakes the roof with his snoring. I watched him all night."
The third night was Fred's turn. Fred was a tanned, older cowboy, a man's man. The next morning he came to breakfast bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. "Good morning!" he said. They couldn't believe it. They said, "Man, what happened?" He said, "Well, we got ready for bed. I went and tucked Bob into bed, patted him on the butt, and kissed him good night. Bob sat up and watched me all night."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An uncircumcized man decided to show his devotion to his wife by having her name tatooed on his penis. Often, her whole name, WENDY, would show, but usually all that would show was WY.
One summer, the couple vacationed in Jamaica, and happened to find their way to a nude beach. There the man noticed a local man whose penis also appeared to say WY. Later he chanced to run into the local man at a bar. He couldn't resist asking, "So, is your wife named Wendy too?"
The local said, "No, mon. I have no wife named Wendy. Why do you ask?"
After some embarrassed hemming and hawing, the man explained the situation, saying he had noticed the WY on the local's penis and wondered about it.
The local replied, " No Mon. My tatoo says WELCOME TO JAMAICA, MON, AND HAVE A NICE DAY."
itmademyday.com
A friend of mine told me how he rear ended another car yesterday. The person he hit happened to be a midget. The guy got out of his car and walked to my friend’s window, looked up and said, “I am not happy.” To which my friend replied, “Then which one are you?”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
All drugs have two names, a trade name and generic name.Example, the trade name is Tylenol and its generic name is Acetaminophen. Aleve is also called Naproxen.
Amoxil is also called Amoxicillin and Advil is also called Ibuprofen.
The FDA has been looking for a generic name for Viagra.
After careful consideration by a team of government experts, it recently announced that it has settled on the generic name of Mycoxafloppin.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bill and his wife Blanche went to the state fair every year, and every year Bill would say, "Blanche, I'd like to ride in that helicopter."
Blanche always replied, "I know, Bill, but that helicopter ride is fifty bucks,and fifty bucks is fifty bucks!"
One year Bill and Blanche went to the fair, and Bill said, "Blanche, I'm 75 years old. If I don't ride that helicopter, I might never get another chance."
To this, Blanche replied, "Bill that helicopter ride is fifty bucks, and fifty bucks is fifty bucks."
The pilot overheard the couple and said, "Folks I'll make you a deal. I'll take the both of you for a ride. If you can stay quiet for the entire ride, and don't say a word, I won't charge you a penny! But if you say one word it's fifty dollars." Bill and Blanche agreed and up they went.
The pilot did all kinds of fancy maneuvers, but not a word was heard. He did his daredevil tricks, but still not a word.
When they landed, the pilot turned to Bill and said, "By golly, I did everything I could to get you to yell out, but you didn't. I'm impressed!"
Bill replied, "Well, to tell you the truth I almost said something when Blanche fell out, but you know, Fifty bucks is fifty bucks!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SLEEPING WITH BOB The guys were all at a deer camp. No one wanted to room with Bob, because he snored so badly. They decided it wasn't fair to make one of them stay with him the whole time, so they voted to take turns.
The first guy slept with Bob and comes to breakfast the next morning with his hair a mess and his... eyes all bloodshot. They said, "Man, what happened to you? He said, "Bob snored so loudly, I just sat up and watched him all night." The next night it was a different guy's turn. In the morning, same thing, hair all standing up, eyes all bloodshot. They said, "Man, what happened to you? You look awful! He said, 'Man, that Bob shakes the roof with his snoring. I watched him all night."
The third night was Fred's turn. Fred was a tanned, older cowboy, a man's man. The next morning he came to breakfast bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. "Good morning!" he said. They couldn't believe it. They said, "Man, what happened?" He said, "Well, we got ready for bed. I went and tucked Bob into bed, patted him on the butt, and kissed him good night. Bob sat up and watched me all night."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An uncircumcized man decided to show his devotion to his wife by having her name tatooed on his penis. Often, her whole name, WENDY, would show, but usually all that would show was WY.
One summer, the couple vacationed in Jamaica, and happened to find their way to a nude beach. There the man noticed a local man whose penis also appeared to say WY. Later he chanced to run into the local man at a bar. He couldn't resist asking, "So, is your wife named Wendy too?"
The local said, "No, mon. I have no wife named Wendy. Why do you ask?"
After some embarrassed hemming and hawing, the man explained the situation, saying he had noticed the WY on the local's penis and wondered about it.
The local replied, " No Mon. My tatoo says WELCOME TO JAMAICA, MON, AND HAVE A NICE DAY."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)