“And therein lies the reality of the entire Bronny James situation. He is a good basketball player … but right now, he is not a great one. He is a freshman still developing. So yes, he makes silly mistakes — like not finishing one second-half cut, which led to a USC turnover and Enfield barking across the court with his pointer finger extended. But he also has promising flashes. It’s a mixed bag. It’s no different than dozens of other talented but raw prospects across the country.
This one just happens to have a stupendous surname.
Take away that bloodline, and Bronny James is a multi-year college player, one who needs to continue honing his skills. Reminder: He is not even a starter now, on one of the most disappointing teams in the worst of all six power conferences, per KenPom. (USC was picked to finish second in the Pac-12 and was ranked No. 21 in the preseason AP poll. The Trojans are one game ahead of Oregon State for last place in the league). What about that suggests this guy is ready for the NBA next season? Absolutely nothing.”
Political analysts of all stripes agree that the 2024 Presidential Election will be decided by about 5% of voters who don’t identify with either the Red Team or the Blue Team exclusively. Those rarely seen in the wild independents will prove especially important in the six states that will likely determine which candidate gets 270+ electoral votes—Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, Michigan, North Carolina, Arizona and Georgia.
I’m Team ‘Blue Team’ in a decidedly blue state, meaning the Octogenarian won’t really need my vote. So what can I do, and people like me, who are desperate to preserve our democracy?
Several things. First, let’s identify all of our independent friends. For example, using their Alaska Airline abbreviations to maintain their privacy, I’m thinking of MARN, TMAT, and MLAL.
Second, ask each 5 percenter which of the six swing states they like the most and would be willing to move to by summer’s end*.
Third, find them a job in their swing state of choice that pays an equivalent amount.
Fourth, help them sell their current crib and buy a similar one in their swing state of choice in time to establish residency.
Fifth, hire a moving company to ease the transition, give them ample gas and hotel money, and pack treats for their journey.
Imagine if everyone on Team Blue, did this, like me, for three of their independent friends.
Landslide baby, landslide.
*with the understanding that as soon as they vote, they can move back if they so choose
One group of friends doesn’t know and doesn’t care. They have a wonderfully whacky Super Bowl tradition that appeals greatly to the nonconformist in me. Each year they compete to see who can go the longest without knowing the outcome. Especially in a year like this one where I don’t have a rooting interest and the Dad and Daughters Club has committed February 11th to watching “Killers Of The Flower Moon.”
Truthfully, I am too plugged in to do very well. I mean, it’s kind of hard to find out who won the golf tournament without stumbling upon the Super Bowl winner.
Alison says when she doesn’t want to know the score of a Chelsea women’s game, she goes “full Amish”. That is prob what it takes. Who is in with me?
I prefer optimism to pessimism, but my read of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is that there is no solution. The mutual fear and hatred runs too deep and too many people on each side are determined to die for their cause. The only certainty is that there will be more death and destruction.The only thing still to be determined is the degree to which the death and destruction spreads to other countries.
Headline to celebrate A. “Federal Appeals Court Rejects Trump’s Claim of Absolute Immunity”.
Headline to celebrate B. “Mother of Michigan Gunman Found Guilty of Manslaughter”. Hoping against hope that this gets the attention of other woefully negligent parents, and that as a result, there is less youth gun violence.
The ultimate podcast flex is silent breaks. Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson for the win.
The Tracy Chapman—Luke Combs collab makes me wonder whether I’ve been exaggerating the decline of the (dis)United States. Dare I say, maybe there’s hope?
Everything exists on a continuum. For example, while running down San Vicente Blvd in Santa Monica last week I marveled at the amount of money a fair number of West Los Angelenos spend on cars. Why do they do that I wondered? I concluded, rightly or wrongly, it was because they’re vain. Porsche, Mercedes, and Range Rover make bank on people’s vanity.
Just as I was starting to feel really superior I caught myself. Glancing at my watch, I saw my average pace for the run was 9 minutes and some seconds. Prompting me to pick up the pace in order to avoid uploading a 9 minute per mile run to Strava.* Why you’re asking yourself. See above paragraph. Granted, more subtle and nuanced, but same concept. The only difference, the degree of vanity.
What does this have to do with Apple’s new Vision Pro you’re wondering. Well, I’m here to connect those seemingly disparate dots.
Maybe the mostly likely reaction to the Vision Pro is to fear for a future where tech laden introversion obliterates interpersonal relations even further. But when I walk into the Plum Street Y weight room almost everyone is already listening to their own music and/or podcasts making spontaneous meetings and convo highly unlikely. Including me.** Same on subways and lots of other public spaces. People are already using smart phones, head phones, and related personal tech to tune out the outside world, including the people they are damn near rubbing elbows with.
Steve likes to talk to me whenever he sees me at the pool or in the weight room. In the weight room, when I see him approaching, I pop out one of my AirPods. Easy-peasy. This is what came to mind when watching this Casey Neistat’s review of the Vision Pro.
Just watch from the 7+ minute mark. The first seven minutes are ridiculous, dystopian, depressing, pick your most negative adjective. But let’s do what Casey does at the end of his review and fast forward to a future where Vision Pro-like products are way way lighter, less obtrusive, and less dorky.
Something like eye glasses that morph into sun glasses in the sun seems likely. It would be easy to sit alone on a bench in New York City and switch seamlessly from being alone in your own multimedia world and then either resting the glasses on top of your head or letting them dangle around your neck whenever someone sits down next to you.
There’s no putting this personal tech toothpaste back in the tube, but my tribe, the introverts, will not roam the world alone, figuratively or literally. There will still be a normal distribution of extroverts. And we will still talk to one another even after the Vision Pro becomes semi-affordable and reaches critical mass.
Vain people will even continue expanding their circle of friends, and sometimes even fall in love, and sometimes even have children.
That could’ve been the title of Rob Copeland’s gripping inside look at Ray Dalio’s hedge fund, Bridgewater Associates.
Cults seem to have a few things in common including leaders who combine delusions of grandeur with atypical charisma. In the Bridgewater Associates cult, Ray Dalio combined delusions of grandeur with unfathomable wealth which he used to maintain a loyal following. Many Bridgewater employees sacrificed their morals, mental health, and general well-being for the prospects of striking it rich.
The gap between Dalio’s public persona as an investing and human relations genius and Copeland’s portrait of an insecure, simple-minded, self-centered, and cruel bully, is a searing indictment of the financial press.
After reading The Fund, one can’t help but be skeptical, if not hopelessly cynical about anybody with a glowing public persona. With no end in sight, we continue to buy what the rich and famous are so desperately selling.
Pressing Pause 