From The New York Times.
Confronted with allegations that they had cheated in a course and fudged their attendance, dozens of undergraduates at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign recently sent two professors a mea culpa via email. But, according to the professors, artificial intelligence had written the emails.
1st, On Running. 2nd, Under Armour. 3rd, Adidas. 4th, Puma.
From The New York Times.
“Highly polished, Statuary marble!” Mr. Trump declared on social media as he posted images of his new Lincoln bathroom, even as some households planned on handing out canned soup in lieu of candy.
A man of the people.
Given our deep-seated commitment to fitness, I should be a Peter Attia stan.
No, I’m not a Stanford educated MD, but I know a lot more than him about the fragility of life. At the end of his 60 Minutes profile, he talks about living into his 90s in order to spend meaningful time with his grandchildren. Admirable goal fo sho.
But then he naively explains how he also charts his 75 patients’ lives long into the future. Each of whom pays over $100k for his team’s work up and counsel, but I digress.
Someone has to tell him. And them.
Peter, all our exercise does is improve our odds of living longer better lives, but it doesn’t guarantee shit. There’s still a chance that at some point some of our cells divide uncontrollably, ignoring signals to stop. Or we could get hit by a car while completely exposed in our Zone 2 groove. Or [fill in the blank]. Related. There’s no guarantee your kids will have kids.
Control is a complete illusion.
Granted, no one is going to pay six figures for my advice, but here it is anyways. Focus on your current family not your future one. Live this year like it might be your last. Because it could be.
From the same New York Times article regarding the President’s recent M.R.I. scan.
“’I gave you the full results,’ Mr. Trump said, mischaracterizing the summary that was released by his physician. The summary did not say that Mr. Trump had an M.R.I. scan and had few details on what testing the president had undergone. When asked why he had undergone an M.R.I., the president said, ‘you could ask the doctors.’ Magnetic resonance imaging, a noninvasive technology that creates detailed images of the inside of the body, is often used for disease detection and monitoring, or to detect bone or joint abnormalities.
The only conclusion to draw from this absurd softening of his boldface lie is that the “paper of record” is afraid of the Mad King’s army of lawyers. Which means our democracy is even more imperiled than we realize.
Here’s how it would’ve read in a vibrant democracy. “I gave you the full results,’ Mr. Trump said, blatantly lying about the information that was released by his physician.
From The New York Times.
“Mr. Trump also reiterated that he was interested in serving a third term, saying that he ‘would love to do it’ because of his popularity with his supporters. Mr. Trump, who spoke to journalists for about 30 minutes on a flight to Tokyo from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, during his almost weeklong trip to Asia, seemed intent on presenting himself as fit to lead, if not run for the presidency again.”
Cue nationwide ‘No Kings’ social protests and civil disobedience on a scale never seen in this country.
When I press pause and reflect on the covid pandemic years, I can’t help but conclude we overcompensated for the very real public health risks. For example, now that we know more about the virus, I’m with a lot of people who have concluded we errored in closing schools for as long as we did. One weekend, our former governor even closed an outdoor park.
Like our former Luv Guv, except for the elderly, immune compromised, and otherwise physically vulnerable, many of us kind of lost our minds.
I can’t help but wonder if a covid pandemic “abundance of caution” mindset lives on in ways that might be related to the widespread conspiracy thinking that is so prevalent these days. Why? Because of the way some educated people spent September spreading fear about the safety of our pristine local lake.
First, an admission. Yes, sporadically, usually in the spring, Ward Lake has algae blooms that make swimming unhealthy and unwise.
In early summer, a member of Facebook’s Olympia Triathlon Training Group posted this missive, “FYI, possible but not confirmed toxic algae bloom at Ward Lake.” That’s all it took for lots of people to lose their minds. Rightly or wrongly, I blame the covid pandemic.
Here’s what the County reported about the lake.
So, nevermind that there wasn’t enough algae present to even warrant a sample/reading, and that actual swimmers said the lake looked perfectly fine, an “abundance of caution” took hold to the point that triathlete meet ups were cancelled because “of a potential toxic algae bloom”. That phrase was like a spark that started a wildfire. People repeated the phrase, which acted like a wind whipping up the flames.
Fast forward to yesterday when someone organized a meet up. Then this from another member, “Have you checked their contamination levels – a couple of weeks ago they had high levels and said no swimming. Just FYI.”
Sigh. This is the fire jumping a demarcation line. Despite the County saying very matter of factly that there was NO reading, this person inexplicably lobbed “high levels” and “no swimming” into the mix. What the hell?!
I spent a glorious hour in the lake yesterday morning minutes before this back-and-forth. But maybe my lived experience isn’t a credible counterfactual to the abundance of caution. I don’t even believe in QAnon.
The Bear has cast a spell on me. I watch it in a transfixed state rooting for the restaurant and every single character. I’m doing my best to limit myself to one episode a day before dozing off. I slipped up today and watched Episode 4.9 in the middle of the day. Whether to watch the season finale tonight is one of the great ethical questions of our time.
Episode 4.9 produced not just the normal watery eyes, but actual tears thanks to Jamie Lee Curtis who they should just give whatever awards she’s eligible for. Tour de force.
I see critical headlines about the show’s lack of direction and slippage and just laugh. “Not reading that or that or that.” Because the writers are all wrong. Every season, hell, every episode is perfect.
Criticize the show and prepare to throw down.
Then there’s Haim’s new album, “I Quit”. Haim is single-handedly giving young hetero males hope. Their songs and vids are unabashedly hetero. And fun. And funny. Dig this lyric from “Take Me Back”.
“Alana lost her head when she had a crush
Billy St. Reams didn’t wanna fuck
Bad GPA, couldn’t get it up”
I don’t know BSR, but there’s no way he deserved that!
Here’s a different track from the album.
Extra credit if you know which one of the three love interests is on The Bear.
A very good friend of mine has been “unlucky” in marriage. Three divorces. Although the first was so short, and he was so young, he doesn’t count it. A mulligan if you will. So, for all intents and purposes, twice divorced.
Of course, you and I both know luck has nothing to do with whether committed relationships endure.
After his last divorce, about five years ago, he looked in the failed relationship mirror, and really didn’t like what he saw, negative patterns of his own doing.
In no time at all, he fell hard for partner four. So hard, he turned to a therapist to avoid sabotaging it.
No dude in the history of dudes has ever told another dude everything they talk about with their therapist. But my friend has confided in me a bit about his therapeutic journey including his initial question of “Am I an asshole?” I could have saved him a lot of time and money by simply saying “No, you aren’t an asshole. Not even close.” But his initial question was his way of asking, “What’s wrong with me?” Which lead to, “What work do I need to do to avoid fucking up this relationship?”
Relationship Four really warms my heart. I asked him what explains his positivity and joy in this new relationship and without hesitating, he said, “We have fun together.” I herby submit that as a litmus test for any committed relationship.
I don’t know anyone over fifty who has pivoted as much as my friend. The key ingredients as I understand them—introspection, humility, vulnerability, and self-compassion. Inspiring stuff.
Fast forward to a text he sent this morning. And I quote, “And then to top the evening off, I showed M how I had spent the last five weeks secretly learning to swing dance to surprise her for her 50th birthday. Yes, that’s as much as I can manage after five weeks. I can’t dance! And I’m a slow learner.”
The low res video nearly brought me to tears. Just the two of them, swing dancing in front of a big ass swing band in a New York City club. It’s so beautiful. Because it represents so much damn growth. He’s prioritizing her happiness. And so the happiness comes back to him.
On my run this afternoon, I kept returning to the vid in my mind. And all the innumerable podcasts I’ve listened to and “think pieces” I’ve read that lament the problem of boys, and how to raise men, and how to teach masculinity.
My friend’s surprise swing dance is the most manly, most masculine thing imaginable. Because it’s the result of all the intrapersonal work he’s done.
I firmly believe the “boy-man-masculinity” discussion is completely pointless. Instead of asking, “What does it mean to be a man?”, we should ask, “What does it mean to be a decent human being?” Instead of obsessing about getting masculinity just right, we should shift our focus to the personal attributes we want all young people to embody, irrespective of their gender identities.
Especially how to be caring, kind, and selfless. I am incredibly proud of my friend for piecing together an equation that fosters those exact attributes.
Introspection + humility + vulnerability + self-compassion.
“Elon Musk’s net worth dropped by $26 billion today, primarily due to a significant decline in Tesla’s stock price following a heated exchange between Musk and Donald Trump.”
Being described by libs as the “big beautiful break up”. Abby Phillip on CNN just said $34b. So give or take $8b.
Pressing Pause 