Too Much Coffee Man must be seeing the same proud postings on social media that I am: People being anxious to let the universe know that they’ve never watched “Game of Thrones.”
I’ll confess that I find chirping about how excited you are for the new season of the show a little annoying, but social media is about building communities, and so it makes sense to enjoy a community of people who like the same TV show.
Though there are probably any number of Game of Throne Facebook groups where you could go burble on about it among friends.
In any case, there’s a huge difference between saying “I couldn’t get into it” and bragging that you are so incurious that “I’ve never seen a single episode!”
I gave Game of Thrones a try and couldn’t get into it, and, for that matter, I gave Downton Abbey a try and ditto. For that matter, when I was a very young man, I didn’t go see the Graduate, but, even at 17, I knew that, while I might be a little proud of having resisted the peer pressure, it was really nothing to brag about.
And I’ll also confess that I had the TV on all day yesterday covering the NFL Draft, despite knowing I could look up my favorite team’s choices in two minutes on Google.
Which I add because the only thing more annoying than people who brag about not watching Game of Thrones is people who brag about not watching sports, since those precious nitwits pretend not to even understand them, talking about “sportsball” as if it made them cool to be that ignorant.
Vincent: I don’t watch TV.
Jules: Yeah, but, you are aware that there’s an invention called television, and on this invention they show shows, right?
And now please don’t tell me how cool you are because you don’t like Quentin Tarantino. Nobody does anymore.
Anyway, it’s an interesting lead-in to this
Juxtaposition of the Day
(Chip Bok)
I’ve known Bernie for decades, having been across Lake Champlain from him when he was mayor. I don’t really know Kamala at all, though she was at Dartmouth the other day and will probably wander by again before the primaries. (Everyone does.)
But one of the things everyone who knows Bernie knows about Bernie is that, if you ask him a question, you’ll get an answer, even if it’s a dumb answer. So if he says prisoners should still have the right to vote, you can pose questions that drag him away from possessors of marijuana and over to mass murderers and watch him load up his opponents with talking points.
On the other hand, there’s such a thing as being too cautious and you’ll get nailed for that, too. Harris has, as far as I can tell, been more definitive than Tulsi Gabbard, who may have wrecked her campaign early with an appearance on New Hampshire Public Radio in which every question was answered with an intention to study the issue.
That is, the absurd total over-caution Ohman charges Harris with in jest, Gabbard was declaring in earnest.
As it happens, Buttigieg nimbly handled questions about Sanders’ position on felons voting from prison, stating that felons should regain the right after serving their sentences but not until then, while Harris kind of hit a murky-middle that didn’t make her position entirely clear.
Well, there will be time for all the works and days of interviews that lift and drop a question on their plates, time for Kamala and time for Pete, and time yet for a hundred indecisions, and for a hundred visions and revisions, before the taking of a primary vote February 11.
And there’s this: I’ve seen “analysis” of the Bernie Bro/Russian troll business based on the statistic that 10 percent of those who voted for Bernie in the primaries voted for Trump in the general election.
This ignores the fact that people often vote in primaries in hopes of eliminating a candidate rather than with the intentions of promoting one.
It’s easier in a state with open primaries, but even when it requires registering as a party member, it’s a common thing, and these analysts might as easily write that X-percent of people who voted against Hilary in the primaries did it again in the general election.
Jeez-Louise. Learn how the game is played before you pontificate about the results.
I’m stunned it’s only 10 percent.
And now, the latest non-political flap
Stone Soup brings up a fingernails-on-chalkboard issue, because there’s nothing more pleasant than the slurp of sweaty feet detaching from the flip-flops on each step.
There are many things I don’t miss about working in an office, but this seems like an unnecessary one.
I used to think we should have a rosin box by the doorway for women who insisted on wearing flip-flops, so they could powder their feet on the way into work.
Only then they’d end up getting white powder all over their dress yoga pants.
What’s that expression? “Dress for what you’d rather be doing”?
Basket cases
Maria Scrivan describes a typical trip to the store, and, when the checkout clerk asks “Did you find everything you were looking for?” my answer tends to be “And then some.”
Our Hannaford does something intelligent and simple: They keep a stack of baskets at the back of the store, and I have more than once dumped an armload of groceries into one.
They profit from it, because then I’ll keep poking around shopping rather than saying to myself “Can’t hold any more; time to check out.”
I ran into a store manager at another grocery and suggested he do that same thing and he thought it was a great idea. But it hasn’t happened.
I suppose Corporate decided that, since they weren’t already doing it, they shouldn’t.
“That’s not how we do it” being one of the great excuses for inaction, just as “Don’t rock the boat” is one of the great bits of career advice.
I really miss the “good old days”, when the New Hampshire primary was in March, and candidates did not actually declare they were running until January. We actually had a year or two when we did not have to talk about the presidential race.
Then Iowa had the bright idea to hold a “caucus”, which they could hold before the New Hampshire primary, which started an arms race, which led to our situation now where the presidential campaign starts shortly after the midterms.
At least, that’s the way I remember it.