TP.

I just got back from the Kroger for general grocery and shopping needs. Recently, in addition to other things, I ran out of toilet paper. The most on-sale toilet paper was a 24 count, single roll Kroger brand "Nice n' Soft." (Sidenote: It is neither nice, nor soft. A more accurate, though probably less successful, advertising slogan would be "Uncomfortable n' Abrasive.") Anyways, it was 24 count! Sweet mother! My eyes bugged out due to the sheer volume. But needing the product as I do (I'm tired of using old towels.... JUST KIDDING), I loaded this obscene amount of toilet paper into my cart and started praying that the cashier not be an attractive twenty-something. Sure enough, the shortest checkout line was a friendly, attractive peer. Is it weird that I felt like telling her I was not going to use all that toilet paper at once? Buying that much TP is like a nonverbal statment equivalent to, "Excuse me, while my rearend explodes." I just get conscientious about buying that much TP all at the same time. I feel like she'll make assumptions about my diet that are simply not true. I swear I do subsist on prune juice, puddle water and chinese food buffets! Honestly.

Underpriveleged and Crap.

Mark claims, as a child, he was "underpriveleged." By "underpriveleged," he means that his parents considered forcing him to sit under a hairdryer with a bowl of popcorn watching The Lawrence Welk Show a treat. Sure sounds underpriveleged to me.

On another note, Jeff and Jen got me good today. I was standing at the nurses' station and chatting with some people in passing. Jeff and Jen pointed to the ground with absolute horror. On the ground, I saw what I thought was a little turd. It really looked like that. Jen says, "Ewwww! It came out of your pants!" I was HORRIFIED. I thought to myself, "How can this be? How can this happen without me knowing?" I was dancing around the clinic floor completely out of my mind. Jeff tossed me latex gloves to clean it up. I was in a frantic state of trying to muster the courage to remove the nastiness and at the same denying it was me. I must've blamed it on a dozen people, some of whom do not even work at MPRI. Jeff rushed over and barehanded the lil feces. He put it to his nose, sniffed and ate it! OMFG! My jaw hit the freaking ground. Immediately, I look over at Jen losing her mind with laughter. My brain quickly connected the "poopy" with the half-eaten brownie on Jeff's desk. The lil crap was actually brownie. At this point, I was pissed and yet relieved. Thank God I actually had not unknowingly shat myself. John and Avril also fell for the whole thing. They probably thought I was the sickest person in the world. "How could Anthony track poop into the clinic?!"

All I have to say is payback is a bitch, folks. (Oh yea and well done. Flawless prank).

MPRI Softball. Heck yea!

First off, I promised myself I wouldn't double blog (i.e. two blog posts in one day). But this is just too good to pass up.

The MPRI softball team is now 2 - 0. For our first game, the other team didn't show up. But for the game today, they showed up and we sent them home sad. Heck yea! Honestly, everyone did great. Our defense was pretty good, but we just out scored them. Every time the other team put a few runs on the board, the next at-bat we'd add a few more. We took an early 3 run lead, and the other team just couldn't catch up.

Special shout-out to Dr. Wen Hsi. We are up by 1 run late in the game, and the other team has decent offense. To come out victorious, we need a few more insurance runs. Bases loaded, 2 outs, the count at 2 and 2... Wen hits a 2 RBI single, scoring Jen and I from third and second, respectively, and advances Karlee to third. UN-FLIPPIN-BELIEVEABLE! With all that physics training, in his mind, Wen calculated the perfect bat velocity, swing angle and hit trajectory to ensure the MPRI win! In Britain, in the 60s, it was common to see walls graffitied with "Clapton is God." Well, I'm on my way to Bloomington Hardware and if you see "Wen is God" painted on the MPRI parking lot... I swear it wasn't me.

Other shoutouts to just about everyone else... I'm impressed. Several people had an on-base percentage of way over .500... and a couple with 1.000. Amazing. Several fielders came up with big plays. Go team!

I just bench pressed my car from all the adrenaline.

Governator.

I just saw an interview with Arnold Swartzenneger (sp?) on This Week with George Stefanopoulos (sp?).

I had the opportunity to vote in the special referendum election in Calfornia. The two referendums were: 1) should Gov. Gray Davis be removed in accordance with the iniative proposed? 2) if removed, who should be governor in his place? I voted to keep Davis in office not because I thought he was so great but because I thought the iniative was unfair. 1.6 million people signed a referendum to remove a governor who was elected by ~14 million people. That's ridiculous. (Not too mention the $2 million referendum was funded by a Representative who had hoped to be the replacement governor candidate). However, if Gray were removed, I voted for my first (and only) Republican, Sen. McClintock. He was a pretty hard-edge conservative, but at the same, California is the place of Liberals Gone Wild. I saw it as balance. I love baby seals as much as the next guy, but not to the tune of underfunded education, no healthcare policy and labor union tyranny. (Wow, I just sounded like a Republican... "you can either save baby seals or healthcare and education... PICK ONE! You can't do both!") Not too mention, in the election, all the Democratic candidates were boobs anyhow. And Ah-nold just was not my type of candidate, and forget even addressing, the pornstars, actors and other know-nothings who decided to run.

Anyways, on This Week, I never thought I would say this, but the Governator gave off an image of sincerity and that he sort of had a clue. My bar is set pretty low, I guess. He was critical of the Bush Administration on Iraq, Katrina, immigration, healthcare and education. Would it be so bad to have a Republican candidate who is pro-choice, pro-civil union, pro-stem cell research (the bill he passed on this topic was visionary), anti-deportation of immigrants and capable of criticizing his own party when appropriate? I mean, he's certainly a Reagan Republican in the sense that he is a triumph of style over substance. But maybe that is what an executive politician should be. Leave the policy design to the think tanks.

Fordham Visitor.

So one of my best friends, Amit, is visiting Bloomington this weekend. He was consulting in Chicago and decided to make a stop-over in Indiana.

Last night, Amit and I and some friends went out to the Alley Bar, a local favorite pub. The conversation was definitely all over the place-- Supreme Court Justice hook-ups, Grimace and Mayor McCheese, the Israel/Palestine conflict, pelvic exams. We won't ever post the conversation in this blog. It's needs severe censoring. Anyways, Amit had three beers (according to his own count) and I had two-and-a-half beers (the last half I nursed for at least an hour). This morning I woke with a headache. Amit complained of the same thing. After popping a couple Advil, I said, "Well, we're not undergrads anymore." Amit said, "No, that's not it. The beer must be stronger here." Right.

New Theory.

This theory was triggered by the White House Press Secretary's resignation:

White House Press Secretaries are not permitted to have facial hair because it makes it look as if they are hiding something.

Sooooooooo Polite.

Today, I started thinking about this incident a couple weeks back. I went out for lunch with seven or eight co-workers. As we were walking into Olive Garden, Jen (a co-worker) and I saw a group of three girls coming out. So, trying to be polite, we held the door and let the girl party walk out. One particularly special girl turns and says, "Thank you sooooooooo much."

I almost slammed the door in her face. "Sooooooooo much"?! I'm not sure I did something that warranted a "sooooooo much." A simple "thank you" would suffice in this case. A smile and head nod would be just as appropriate. It's about specific language and perspective. I'd hate to see her reaction if I actually did something meaningful, like donate the kidney, which she'll undoubtedly need to remedy her soon-to-be acute renal failure brought on by severe binge drinking at the local Eye Felta Thigh sorority. How can I take this person seriously? And more importantly, how will society ever take her seriously? Can we, as a people, honestly expect a contribution to the greater good from this yahoo, who clearly has lost all perspective on life? We all know the answer to that one.

Happy Easter.

Happy Easter. (I was going to go with one of those "Spring Greetings" or some other inclusive generic bullshit salutation but I decided to just own this one).

Easter Sunday mass was rough at St. Robert Bellarmine. The church looks so small. I had to be one of the youngest people there. It made my pre-mass ritual (i.e. looking for attractive girls) more difficult. I thought I had made a wrong turn and ended up in the Cleveland Clinic Geriatric Ward. On that note, the Edith Bunker Choir was in full effect. God bless 'em. The pastor did have a quippy thing to say at the end of mass. "Before we extend the Easter joy to our community, let's extend that joy to the parking lot. Take your time." It's priest-funny. The bar is set a little lower.

I hope I'm never at a point in my life when being out of the parking lot is a high priority. "Man, if I only get out of this lot first, I'll be winning the race of life," as I flip off the older couples in their Crown Victorias. Who am I kidding... I already think this way. Speeding through yellow lights on the way home from work gives me the illusion that I'm gaining back a few wasted minutes toward my PhD. "YES! That's a three minute time saver. Here I come PhD-ville." I keep a running tally... it's true.

When Bloomington empties for the summer, I find major time savings. It's great. No kids (yikes... did I just refer to 18-22 year olds as kids?!) to get in my way to or from work. O Lord! Epiphany! I drive a 4-door Camry. My license plate has the unfortunate letters "DAD" in it. I wear a knee brace when I go jogging. I make that noise when I stand or sit... like it's an effort.

Sadness setting in. This festive, spring stream of conscious blog post just took a turn for the worse. I'm getting depressed and going to stop writing while I still have the will to live. I'll go beat my 3-year old niece, Marie, at the Easter Egg hunt at the family party. That'll make me feel better. "HA! Marie look what I found! I'm so much better than you!"

Don't Cheat. Conclusions.

Cognitive Reflection and Decision Making. That's the title of Dr. Frederick's work published in the Journal of Economic Perspectives. Part I was the Cognitive Reflection Test (CRT). Frederick correlates this to decision making, specifically in economics, using questions like those in Part II. In his article, he shows the correlations.

The bad news is our study carries essentially no weight. We clearly did not sampled a population remotely close to a Gaussian distribution. The good news is this group was certainly leading the bell, not trailing. Anthony's family, friends (and friends of friends) are too damn smart and with it.

The CRT is not an IQ test. It is supposed to test the difference between an intuition-driven response and a reflection-driven response. Those people able to make quick decision while relying heavily on intuition generally score lower on the CRT. Those people who require more time to reflect before making a decision score higher on the CRT. Each CRT question has an intuitive answer that is wrong. Our average correct answers in our group's CRT is 2.45. On a whole, this score outperforms MIT, Princeton, Harvard, University of Michigan and other groups. (Of course, again, our N = 11 which means our study presents no statistically significant correlation).

In economics questions and correlation, when comparing two questions #1 and #2, directly from Frederick's paper, our results compare very well. This compares the subset group of those scoring 3 out of 3 on the CRT. For question #1, our group scored 87.5%, while Frederick observed 60%. For question #2, our group scored 50%, while Frederick observed 37%. The trend is right... perhaps the numbers would be closer with a proper sample population. Interestingly, we are slightly behind the trend for question #3. The reflective answer is (b). This is mainly because the "value" of option (b) is $150,000 (chance times payoff). But only 50% of our 3/3 CRT group chose that option, while Frederick observed 60%. This is a great study to apply to "Deal or No Deal."

Men and women correlation? Though completely inconclusive, our trend is about right. Our sample population was also skewed female. Frederick found men tend to score higher on the CRT than women. Frederick does not offer much of an explanation. Let me suggest one. Men score higher on the CRT because men are generally reasonable, rational and fact-driven decision makers. Women tend to be unreasonable, irrational, emotionally-driven decision makers. This goes back to caveman days when men had to hunt, trap and figure out how to survive while women sat on their rearends watching Oprah and eating chocolates. It's just a theory. Anyone have any better ideas? (I can't wait to hear them.) Any other thoughts on the CRT?

Thanks, group, for participating. My PhD is officially 36 minutes behind schedule due to this "study."

Oh yea, the answers.
CRT Part I: $0.05, 5 minutes, 47 days
CRT Part II: high CRT scored correlated answers are b, b, b, b, a

Don't Cheat. Part II.

Here's Part II of the quiz from yesterday (see Don't Cheat. Part I.). Complete Part I first, if you haven't. Don't read the comment sections of either "Don't Cheat" posting until you yourself have posted or recorded your answers. Here are the instructions for this final section. You have no time limit. You do not need any aids except your mind in order to answer the following questions. Ready. GO!

1. Would you rather have (a) $3400 today or (b) $3800 next month?

2. (a) $100 now or (b) $140 next year?

3. Would you prefer (a) $500 for sure or (b) a 15% chance of winning $1,000,000 and an 85% of getting nothing?

4. (a) $100 for sure or (b) 75% of winning $200?

5. (a) a definite loss of $100 or (b) 75% chance of losing $200

DONE!

Record your answers. Post 'em or email 'em (aemascia@hotmail.com). Answers and explanations posted tomorrow. I can't wait to do the number crunching on this group. Maybe the local blog statistician will lend a hand. Don't make me go all p-value and chi-squared on you!

Quiz/study taken from:
Shane Frederick, PhD
Assistant Professor
Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Don't Cheat. Part I.

Here's a quiz. Do not read the comment section of this posting until you have recorded your answers. Here are the instructions. You have exactly 90-seconds. You may use a pencil or pen and as much blank paper as you need. Answer the following three questions. That's all. Remember 90-seconds from the moment you read the first word of the first question below. Ready. GO!

1. A bat and a ball cost $1.10 in total. The bat costs $1 more than the ball. How much does the ball cost?

2. If it takes five machines five minutes to make five widgets, how long would it take 100 machines to make 100 widgets?

3. In a lake, there is a patch of lily pads. Every day, the patch doubles in size. If it takes 48 days for the patch to cover the entire lake, how long would it take for the patch to cover half of the lake?

DONE!

Record your answers. Post them, unadulterated and uncensored, if you dare. Part II quiz questions tomorrow. Answers and explanations to be posted the following day. Let's see if our findings match the good professor's. (If you don't want to post but want to be part of this innovative and important verification of scientific findings, email me at aemascia@hotmail.com with your answers).

Quiz/study taken from:
Shane Frederick, PhD
Assistant Professor
Massachusetts Institute of Technology

Second Last Official Friday of Lent. Right?

So I have to tell this story. A couple weeks back, I was eating lunch with two of my favorite MPRIers, Pat and Av. I was grumbling about not liking the Subway tuna sandwich, and at the same time, pissing and moaning about not having any alternatives. Pat turns to me and says, "You could have a nice pilaf."

WTF! A pilaf?! I mean, I've had pilaf on the side of something. But for a main course?! And who suggests off the top her head a pilaf for Lenten Friday lunch? I was sort of hoping for suggestions. But never did I see this one coming. Plus, putting the word "nice" in front of pilaf put me over the top. As if she were trying to sell me on the idea. To this day, Pat defends this suggestion.

On the other hand, Avril, who is good and creative cook, suggested I make some sort of fish dinner... with garlic, seasoning, lemon butter or some crazy thing. She made it sound wonderful. And when she makes it, I'm sure it is. But again, I was dumbfounded. Do these people know me? I've been annoying the crap out of them for the better part of two years! If I can get through fixing a bowl of Toasty O's (i.e. Kroger brand Cheerios), I'm proud. Then again, Avril eats fish eyeballs. Yea she does.

When "blank" was young...

Sadly, I am writing about dolls. But I just finished having dinner with a few friends. And for about 15 minutes the topic was... you guessed it... dolls. On the positive side, the stories were probably the funniest and most entertaining doll stories I've ever heard. Let me share a couple.

When Sarah was young, she had a propensity for cutting things. Low and behold, Sarah found her perfect toy. She thinks it's name was Polly Hair. Is that crappiest name ever for a doll? Anyways, Polly Hair's (wtf) hair had the ability to grow. So when Sarah pushed this little button on Polly's back, she would make this motor sound (ehhhhhhhhhh) and her ponytail would start growing. If you wanted to cut her hair, you couldn't because the scissors included with the toy did not have blades. So you just mashed her hair between two plastic arms and pretended. Then (my favorite) if you wanted the hair to retract, you would have to crank her arm. Definitely the "jankiest" toy ever.

When Laura was young, Cabbage Patch Kids were all the rage. While living in a small town in Iowa, the local toy store carried the only stock of these garden-variety children. Unfortunately, when Laura's parents arrived to purchase two dolls for Laura and her sister, the toy store was all out of white babygirls. Oh yea, by the way, Laura and her sister are white girls. Only two options were left-- the black babygirl or the white babyboy. And as Laura would say, "Everyone knows the boy cabbage patch dolls were second rate." Regardless, Laura's parents purchased a white boy doll and a black girl doll for their kids. When Laura unwrap her gift, she was the proud parent of a black babygirl Cabbage Patch Kid. At this very moment, she became the white Sojourner Truth of the mid-1980s doll civil rights movement. When her friends mentioned that it didn't make sense for Laura to have a black babygirl doll, Laura would vehemently defend her kid by saying, "Well, my husband is black!"

When Bertie was young, she was only allowed to play with Barbie, not Ken... you know, she's Catholic and there is no premarital sex, especially between inanimate objects with the anatomical correctness of a paper clip. That's a side note. Anyways, she had about dozen Barbies. One day her mom walks in the room and finds Bertie hanging her Barbies from ceiling with yarn. Here's a Barbie hanging from her neck. There's a Barbie hanging from her legs. Bertie's mom asks, "Bertie, what are you doing?" Bertie turns and answers, "Look mom! Circus of the Stars!"

So I lost.

So UCLA lost. My (blog) prediction was wrong. My official NCAA bracket was wrecked before the Final Four even began. Cheers to Jay (alias "Your mom likes the trey" from the Home Court -- Bloomington) for picking Florida to win the whole thing. Well played. The tournament was exciting, although the final three games were arguable let-downs.

Speaking of lost, LOST tonight! It is like my favorite drug, recently replacing crystal meth.

Just a Hammer.

So, I signed up to help lead a summer mission trip to Shawnee, Oklahoma. I'm not sure what possessed me to do such a thing. I don't really like.. you know... interacting with others. Anyways, I recieved an email soliciting adult leaders. Sadly, I just had my 26th birthday and at time I was mourning my lost childhood. "Yea, sure. I guess, I'm a flippin' adult. I can't go unless I chaperone 'cuz I'm too old." Something to that effect.

Anyways, so we (the team and I) are in the dead middle of organizing and planning. Things are actually going well. The team is solid. I just returned home from one of our monthly meetings.

The place in Shawnee we are working wants the team to bring tools. So Sarah, a friend who is also leading the trip, turns to the group and says, "I don't have any tools. Geez." Like a shark in an ocean of chum and tuna, I pounced at this great opportunity.

"What do you mean, Sarah, you don't have any tools? Were you born in the third world? Should I show you pictures of this thing I like to call 'a hammer?' Is this like that movie "The Gods Must Be Crazy" where the tribal people discover a Coke bottle for the first time? Wow, you are not handy at all." All this said in a very sarcastic tone. You know the one.

Without missing a beat, she gives me this look and says, "Oh, I'm sorry. So you have tools to shingle a house? Do you own a tarp?"

She's so right.