Will Baude   Amy Lamboley   Amanda Butler   Jonathan Baude  Peter Northup   Beth Plocharczyk   Greg Goelzhauser   Heidi Bond   Sudeep Agarwala   Jeremy Reff   Leora Baude

April 02, 2004

Ketchup Regret

In a sound post about alcohol-hour-of-day-restrictions, Professor Jim Leitzel of Vice Squad happens to write:

[L]ots of people regret vice-related decisions in ways that they don't ever regret their decisions to consume, say, ketchup.

Now, I do have my share of vices, (see question 14) but for the most part I don't often regret them. So it's interesting that Professor Leitzel mentions ketchup. I avoided ketchup quite strenuously for a long time (except occasionally on a Chicago-style hot dog where I didn't notice it amongst all of the other goop), but I recently had some, and I liked it.

This is unfortunate, and I regret it, because while I liked the ketchup enough to continue to have it a few more times (though it still pales-- pales-- in comparison with mustard) I don't think the utility I derived from liking the ketchup is sufficient to outweigh my meta-desire to dislike ketchup.

It's not that I have anything against ketchup per se, it's just that I like having a few foods that I dislike. I don't have any really good reason for wanting to have a few hold-out foods, although I suppose it makes me feel a little more discerning, gives me something funny to talk about when chatting with food-lovers, and means people will take my "I like almost all real foodstuffs" declaration more seriously if I can say something like "except ketchup" or "except hard-boiled eggs". [A certain co-blogger of mine, for example, has never read Hamlet, and continues to not do so merely because of the meta-utility of being able to not-have-read it. I don't think Hamlet's worth the sacrifice, but ketchup would have been.]

The problem is that in recent months, I've come to like olives (which I used to detest), and hard-boiled eggs (likewise), as well as coffee (towards which I was negative-indifferent), and beer (ditto). Ketchup was to be one of my last unusual holdouts, but I made the mistake of consuming it, and now I like it (I'm still ambivalent about anchovies and raw oysters, but more positive than most people, and in any case, those just aren't interesting foods to dislike in the way that ketchup is).

So while I liked ketchup the last time that I consumed it, I wish that I had not, because the utility I would derive by satisfying my meta-preference to dislike some commonly liked foods is stronger than the utility I derive from occasional (victimless) ketchup consumption.

All of which is to say that Professor Leitzel's observation is intriguing, because (although I am sure that I am unrepresentative) I don't really regret many of my vice-related decisions, but I do in fact regret my decision to consume ketchup. This doesn't detract from his larger point, except in so far as it points out that lots of people display "vice-like" behavior towards goods that are not traditionally considered vices (books, email, blogging, television, sleep, and food; of course, I'm told the last of these topics is now being added to the 2004 syllabus of Professor Leitzel's famous Regulation of Vice course. Will he discuss ketchup-regret?)



TrackBack URL for this entry: http://www.crescatsententia.org/cgi-bin/mt-tb.cgi/700

Call me . . .

Brock Sides highlights an interesting blog-etiquette problem. First name or last name? I've blogged about this before (but can't currently find the post), not particularly coherently.

Different people have different preferences about this, which makes it difficult to set a sensible rule. Co-bloggers nearly always refer to one another by first name, but I can't imagine referring to a post by Volokh with "Eugene says," even if I were commenting on a Jacob Levy post that used precisely that phrase.

My own rule of thumb, which I don't think is yet coherent enough to be a general rule, is to refer to other bloggers by their last name (Schizophrenically switching between "Mr./Dr. X-and-so" and the more newspapery plain "X-and-so") unless one of the following three is true:

1: They've suggested that I can call them by their first name

2: They've referred to me by my first name (which I don't mind, and which I take as an invitation to reciprocate)

3: Their last name isn't readily apparent from their blog.

Even then I often continue to refer to people by their last name out of habit, caution, or whim, but I try very hard to avoid first-naming people until one of those three things has happened. That may be more cautious than necessary.

As a note: those of you writing are perfectly free to call me "Will," "Will Baude," "Baude," "Mr. Baude", etc.



TrackBack URL for this entry: http://www.crescatsententia.org/cgi-bin/mt-tb.cgi/695

Today

I will be at this admitted students weekend all day, so blogging may become a bit light. If you happen to be there too and find me, be sure to say hi.



TrackBack URL for this entry: http://www.crescatsententia.org/cgi-bin/mt-tb.cgi/699

Dare to Dream

Yet another example of the annoyance of April Fools' blogging-- what to make of the "announcement" of the highly improbably GMail, which would be (if it were to exist) Google's free email system offering one gig of storage. I originally saw the link on Marginal Revolution, but That's News to Me has a more helpful collection of links. (And besides, I have to reward them for their 25 hours of work this week).



TrackBack URL for this entry: http://www.crescatsententia.org/cgi-bin/mt-tb.cgi/696

Really Good Pick-up lines...

I may or may not get in trouble for this, but today in choir I realized just how much religious poetry sounds like love poetry. For instance:

Sicut cervus desiderat ad fontes aquarum
Ita desiderat anima mea ad te Deus.

Just as the hart seeks streams of water,
So does my soul yearn for you, God.

A proposed experiment -- replace "God" with the name of any significant other (not well-versed in 16th century polyphony or medieval texts) and send it to him or her...wait for response.

Jesu, dulcis memoria,
dans vera cordis gaudia,
sed super mel et omnia,
eius dulcis praesentia.

Accepted translation:

Jesu, the very thought of Thee,
with sweetness fills my breast,
but sweeter far Thy face to see,
and in Thy presence rest.

Proposed experiment: Change the name, modify the english, and repeat as above.

And my favorite:

14) quoniam mihi adhesit et liberabo eum exaltabo eum quoniam cognovit nomen meum 15) invocabit me et exaudiam eum cum ipso ero in tribulatione eruam eum et glorificabo

14) Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name. 15) He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I [will be] with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him.
--Psalm 91

...yet somehow I'm still without girl friend...



TrackBack URL for this entry: http://www.crescatsententia.org/cgi-bin/mt-tb.cgi/698
1 responded with 1