Procedural vs. Substantive Justice (Incomplete)

Me and the miss's were having a conversation about cheating and whether I ever cheated on her. Of course, I haven't. However, she still implored that I abide by her policy: to tell her no matter what. She explained that the purpose of this policy was so that she could trust what I said; otherwise, it might be the case, from her perspective, that when I say that I've never cheated on her, I might be holding back something. Thus, she relies upon a policy (or a procedure) in order to get the substance she wants: trust. However, I quickly replied by pointing out the danger of such a policy, simply that its potential results do not all fit the desired results (or the desired substance). For instance, suppose I did 'cheat' on my girlfriend, but through no will of my own. Rather, I performed the physical act of cheating only because aliens mind-melded me to do so. There's very little debate as to whether my actions were blameworthy: they weren't. If my girlfriend witnessed this event (thus, having reliable evidence as to the fact that I had no intention of cheating), I'm sure she would have nothing against me (i.e. she wouldn't consider me a cheat). However, suppose she was not there to witness the event and thus would have to rely upon me to divulge the story. If I were to abide by her policy, I would have to tell her what happened. Normally, stories about aliens aren't true and thus any reasonable person (including my girlfriend) would think not only I was a cheat, but a liar too (Notice that a girlfriend who is fed such a line suffers more than from a boyfriend who cheats but doesn't offer such an outrageous story). However, why would anyone want such an outcome? Why would any girlfriend want to sour a faithful relationship and distrust a boyfriend who, in fact, is actually so trustworthy to have abided by his girlfriend's policy even if it means telling such an outrageous story? Normally such an honest person would be rewarded, not punished. It was for this reason that I suggested to my girlfriend that, although she once thought her policy would produce her desired results, the proper policy to produce her desired results would involve not complete disclosure/candor, but rather to leave it to the boyfriend's discretion in deciding when a factual account is so outrageous as to produce the counterproductive result.

So before we examine the objections to my argument, let's look at what I mean by procedural vs. substantive justice. In general terms, my girlfriend's approach/solution to the problem of trust was procedural: she developed a procedure (in all cases of physical cheating acts, report such case to her); it would then be up to her to determine whether I was guilty (blameworthy) or not. However, I showed that the procedural solution was potentially flawed and, more so, liable to make a situation much worse than it would be if the boyfriend merely kept his mouth shut (i.e. to purposely NOT follow the procedure). Thus, my solution would leave it to the boyfriend's discretion in choosing when to disclose. In other words, the boyfriend would look less to procedure but to the potential outcome (substance) and, by examing the various outcomes, to choose by comparing each to the girlfriend's desired outcome. Thus, substantively, a mind-melded boyfriend to be punished in any way would be wrong. Therefore, a discretion-wielding boyfriend would then choose NOT to disclose, in the interest of substance.

Now, I'm sure you have plenty of objections and, before we go any further, let me be the first to admit: the boyfriend's solution is just as flawed and problematic as the girlfriend's. So let's look at each problem:

First of all, the biggest problem is simply this: If there was ever an initial problem "Why should the boyfriend even consider abiding by the procedure to begin with? Why not just say that you will abide but not actually do it?", then we have an inflated version of the problem if the girlfriend agrees to grant discretion to the boyfriend. If the girlfriend agrees to rely upon the boyfriend's discretion as to which disclosures will actually result in the desired outcomes, then this is all the more incentive for the boyfriend to cheat but disclose; not only can he cheat without disclosure, but now he can refrain from disclosing and, magically, with impunity (simply because, if news got to the girlfriend that he did cheat, he can evoke his discretion, based upon the belief that disclosure would result overly negatively.

All things sublime (not yet completed)

There is a short list of sublime things in this world. Most of these sublime things involve music, romance, Christmas or my childhood (often a combination). This post will be an attempt to compile these sublime things, perhaps with some degree of categorization/taxonomy and maybe even analysis and explanation. I can't promise anything yet, however.

First of all, what do I mean by 'sublime'? By sublime, I mean feelings of wonderfulness, of sheer bliss, of transcendence. Still don't know what I mean? Think of a moment when chills ran down your spine, perhaps during an absolutely unanticipated yet perfect event. Think of the moment when you were your most blissful, or perhaps when your longing for the unattainable was its most romantic.

For example, easy examples for me (and I can imagine many people can relate) include the finale to It's a Wonderful Life, as well as the junior-high melodramatic realization that a love for a particular girl will remain unrequited, often at a school dance and with some slow-dance song in the background.

Fuck hipsters.... you're the last man Nietzsche was talking about.

Hipsters are so not amusing anymore.... They spend their entire lives striving to be the most witty, the most aloof, the most 'with it'.... By 'with it', I mean this: You know how you think that old lady on the bus who curses alot is the funniest person in the world?... or maybe how that picture you found on the Internet of that Mexican holding a purse is, in your opinion, the best possible backdrop for your blog?.... These things are only funny to you because you are 'with it,' you see that they are not as aware or as clever or as conscious as you are of their lack of 'with it'-ness. The old lady who curses alot does not as social satire but because she's demented and the Mexican holding the purse had no comic intentions by holding that purse, but rather because he's homosexual. These people aren't nearly as aware of themselves as you hipsters are; rather, they are just being.

What does all this mean? It means that you hipsters are self-feeding, no actually doing anything at all, pretentious wastes of space and time. You know how that red leather jacket goes so well with that vintage A-Team t-shirt so well? Well, guess what? At one time, someone wore those items not as a gag, but because they thought so much of the A-Team that they felt they should affiliate themselves with the tv show. They didn't do it as a 'gag' or 'for kicks.' But you have no idea what that's like, do you? Perhaps the only things you really believe in are IPods and your tragic position in this world as an under-appreciated genius of pop-culture commentary. Think about this: the only articles of clothing you wear NOT out of some sense of pop quotationalism are odor-eaters and snowboots, you pieces of shit.

Why am I so angry? Because I'm dangerously close to being one of you.

Whither Tom Waits?

Look, I'll admit that I like Rod Stewart's "Downtown Train," certainly not nearly as much as the original. However, on some generic VH1 concert special, I just witnessed Josh Groban cover Rod's cover of Waits. Horrible. Horrible.... Horrible. Last year, I had to suffer Sheryl Crow's soulless rendition of "The First Cut is the Deepest," which was a cover of Stewart's cover of Cat Stevens. Please, people, end the covers of Rod Stewart covers. Please. Hegel had a great term for such regression: epigonism. Josh Groban, you are an epigone, and even that is a polite characterization of your music. Stop. Please.

My list of the best Saturday Night Live cast members

The following list is my ranking of Saturday Night Live's best cast members:

1. Will Ferrell
2. Phil Hartman

There is almost no doubt in my mind that these two are the two best cast members; whether Ferrell was in fact better than Hartman is debatable, but my gut instinct says that Ferrell was better. I could go on for volumes as to why I feel Hartman was so great and perhaps the more I think about it, the more I will want to flip the order.

3. Eddie Murphy
4. John Belushi
5. Chris Farley

These next three are, like the two above, clearly better than the rest, but how exactly each should be ranked in relation to each other is not so clear.

6. Mike Myers
7. Dan Aykroyd

8. Molly Shannon
9. Cheri Oteri
10. Jan Hooks

All three of these girls were terrific and, yes, to preempt your next thought, all three were better than:

11. Bill Murray
12. Chevy Chase

They were even better, dare I say, much better than any of the girls of the original cast, including Gilda Radner.

Other groups in the ranking include:

Adam Sandler, David Spade, Rob Schneider

Chris Kattan, Tracy Morgan, Chris Parnell

Jon Lovitz, Kevin Nealon, Dana Carvey

As far as those cast members that were primarily Weekend Update anchors, the ranking is as follows:

Best- Norm McDonald
Worst- Brian Doyle Murray
Mediocre at best- Tina Fey

My urine stream

My urine stream appears to be helix-shaped; that is, it looks like it a cylinder that has been twisted and is now corkscrewed.

As I lay dying....

I occasionally wonder what will be going on around me when I am finally drifting off into the dream-like state the precedes death. From those who I have witnessed die, I can say for sure that the atmosphere is often less than majestic. Kind of like the end of The World According to Garp, I envision that there will be a number of emotionless medical professionals walking in and out of my room while my family is hovering above me, both terrible sad but resigned and talking to me as if I'm an infant. The aspect that really interests me is what song will be in the back of my mind as I finally hit that dream stage, the last song I ever hear, ever sing. You'd think it would be something like Mozart's Requiem or Oh Danny Boy performed by bagpipes; however, my guess is that it'll be something more like "King of the Road." I think it's this type of irony that makes the end of Reservoir Dogs so effective: just as we learn of the tragic death of the only two noble characters, a very superficial, meaningless throwaway song from the 70's comes on the radio, thus reminding us that there will in fact be nothing special about our own individual deaths. Life will go on and it will be going on as usual, even as we experience our last moments.