Dave's Back! Sort of . . .

In case you've been following my "brutal, crippling quadriceps injury," you'll be glad to know (or-- if you're my opponent this Saturday-- loath to know) that I'm back in action; the combination of a massage, two acupuncture sessions, the purchase of a muscle gun, some exercise biking and stretching, and plenty of rest has given my quad new life; I went snowboarding yesterday with Alex and I played tennis today with Ian . . . I'm stiff and a little sore, but I'm still moving and that's all that matters (although I won't be getting to any drop shots this Saturday, I'm going to have to hit winners).

The Operation Warp Speed Dilemma

I loathe Donald Trump, and I’m not loath to say so. I’m guessing most people who are literate enough to properly use “loath” and “loathe” in the same sentence also dislike The Donald.

You might loathe Donald Trump too.

But how much do you loathe him? Do you loathe him enough to root against the health and economic well-being of your entire nation? That’s a lot of loathing.

I’m talking about the Operation Warp Speed dilemma.

If you loathe Trump, you need to contemplate this dilemma.

Now.

At warp speed.

I recognize that contemplation at warp speed is a paradox, but that’s the situation. Sorry.

First, let’s put the cards on the table. Trump is a morally repugnant bigot who derides people from “shithole countries.” He’s an egotistical narcissist who recommends grabbing women by the private parts. He benefited from (and encouraged) Russian meddling in a democratic election. He has an odd infatuation with Vladimir Putin — a guy who is an autocratic enemy of the free press and a friend to corrupt oligarchs. Trump paid off a stripper with campaign money.

Trump’s toxic tweets undermine the mission of our government, Trump’s lies foment discord, and Trump might very well believe he’s above the rule of law. Our president has struggled to condemn white supremacists and Nazis, he has promoted dangerous conspiracy theories, and he’s dismantling the regulations that protect our air, forests, and water. He separated families at the border. He’s insulted our allies and cozied up with neo-authoritarian strongmen. He’s not loyal to anyone (including U.S. intelligence agencies) yet he demands absolute fealty. Trump’s cabinet appointees (and lack thereof) are laughable.

Trump is actively encouraging voter suppression by defunding the U.S. Postal service (at least that’s what my mailman told me).

And, of course, he’s royally screwed his big chance to redeem himself: the pandemic. He could have united the country in a cooperative response to get back on track, financially, socially, and physically. Instead, his response to COVID has been slow, inconsistent, and polarizing.

At the start, he insisted the virus would disappear, just go away. Wishful thinking.

Then he downplayed the advice of the experts, touted an antimalarial drug that had not been tested in a blind trial, and didn’t push for enough testing. He bullied states and schools into reopening, courting disaster.

He recently said of the enormous death toll, “it is what it is.”

Joe Biden and Kamala Harris are running against Trump. That’s their platform. Trump is not smart enough or fit enough to lead. Trump is not the man to guide us through these troubled times. This platform should be good enough to win.

Unless . . .

Unless Operation Warp Speed works.

Operation Warp Speed is as Trump as it gets. A wild financial wager on a new and possibly faster new method of making a vaccine — using proteins and small pieces from COVID — instead of the tried and tested way (using an entire inactivated virus). For an excellent and informed summary of Moderna’s progress on their innovative mRNA vaccine, check out this Freakonomics episode: Will a Covid-19 Vaccine Change the History of Medical Research?

Several vacccines are now in Phase 3, clinical trials. This can last for years, especially if the drug is tested against placebos and other treatments in gold-standard randomized double blind experiments. But ain’t nobody got time for that. Companies are manufacturing millions of doses before the drug is fully tested and approved. On the taxpayer’s dime. Trump has been doling out billions of dollars to corporations, and the process hasn’t been particularly transparent.

If you’re still reading this, you’re probably rooting for the Democrats in November. But how hard are you rooting for them? Are you rooting against Operation Warp Speed?

Because here’s the thing. Operation Warp Speed might work. It might work fast. Maybe even before November 3rd (or whenever we finish counting the mail-in ballots . . . my mailman is not optimistic).

Or — the more likely scenario — Operation Warp Speed might end up a corrupt stew of insider trading, untested science, cronyism, corporate giveaways, and obscene conflicts of interest.

The watchdogs have their eyes on you, Dr. Slaoui.

Operation Warp Speed will probably be remembered as another Trumpian blunder: a half-baked plan with a puerile name.

These two outcomes set up a rather dark game of would you rather . . .

Would you rather that Operation Warp Speed fail and we suffer another year (or two) in the grip of this pandemic?

Due to Trump’s utter inability to curb COVID, Biden and Harris get elected.

Or do you prefer door number two . . . would you prefer that Operation Warp Speed succeeds?

Trump gloats, Trump says I told you so, Trump parades and preens. Trump tweets gloriously untrue propaganda. Trump takes full credit.

Trump convinces the anti-vaxxers to get vaccinated. Trump convinces the country to reopen. Completely. The pandemic, the lockdown, the economic crisis, unemployment . . . they all disappear. Just like he said. The stock market soars even higher.

In this version of the future, Trump gets reelected.

When Trump was asked if a working vaccine delivered before November 3rd would help his reelection chances, he said, “it wouldn’t hurt. But I’m doing it not for the election . . . I want it fast because I want to save a lot of lives.”

Anti-Trumpers might dispute this claim, but I think it’s silly to even parse this. Of course, Trump wants a vaccine for both reasons — he wants to get re-elected, but I’m also assuming he’s sincere about saving lives.

He’s not a sociopath, right?

It doesn’t matter. If Operation Warp Speed works, lives will be saved. Trump’s rationale will become irrelevant. More recently, he accused the “deep state” over at the FDA for slowing down approval of therapeutics, including convalescent plasma. The FDA wants to hold treatments to the double blind gold standard. Trump wants to forge ahead, and see a cure before the election.

So you have to decide: which scenario you are rooting for?

Philosopher Jeremy Bentham called this weird utilitarian math the “hedonistic calculus.”

How much pain would four more years of Trump cause our nation? Would the damage his administration inflicts on the environment and international affairs be more detrimental than the lengthening of the COVID crisis? How much havoc could his appointees wreak? How much more polarization can our citizenry withstand?

These questions are hard to answer.

This one is easier: how much pleasure would the end of COVID bring our nation?

If Operation Warp Speed works, there will be jobs and gyms and weddings and school. Regular school. People will go on cruises. People will go to bars and movies and mega-churches.

But there will be four more years of Trump.

For some, all the anxiety will fade away. For others, it will increase. Tweet by ludicrous tweet.

I can’t look into your soul. I don’t know how hard it would be for you to stomach another four years of Trump in the White House. I don’t know how much you loathe him. I also don’t know what other crises Trump might botch, or how much irreversible damage one man can perpetrate.

Only you can decide where you stand. Only you can do this math. The calculations aren’t pretty. But you might want to start adding up the figures now, so you’re prepared. Whether you like it or not, November is coming.

At warp speed.

The Lamest Advice Ever

I am loath to admit that my dental hygienist was right. Years and years ago, she told me I should invest in an electric toothbrush. A Sonicare. Each visit I would pretend to entertain this notion (because she's very attractive). We'd chat about the merits of the device. She'd admonish me about my gum-line-- and then she'd set to work on my filthy plaque-covered teeth. I'd cringe and bleed and try not to cry (because, as I mentioned earlier, she's very attractive). She'd finish up, remind me again that an electric toothbrush might solve some of these issues, and we'd part ways.

Once I'd left the office-- slightly traumatized and a little sore-- I'd ponder her advice for a moment and then summarily dismiss it.

I'm a man! A strong man. I don't need assistance to brush my teeth. And once I started flossing regularly . . . watch out! Then my teeth and gums would be fine. And it didn't hurt THAT much.

A couple months ago my wife came home from Costco with a pair of Sonicare electric toothbrushes. They take some getting used to. If you open your mouth while brushing, there's going to be a big mess. It feels likes you've released a buzzing insect loose on your teeth. But I kept with it.

My last visit to the dentist, my normal (and very attractive) hygienist was out sick. It's too bad, because she could have gloated and said, "I told you so." The other hygienist-- who is very nice-- said my teeth looked great. All my gums grew back! There was barely any plaque! A couple scrapes and she was done. Easy-peasy. The dentist came in, took a quick look and said, "A+!"

I was like: what the fuck?

So the best advice is often the lamest: get enough sleep, drink in moderation, don't eat fried food, a yellow light doesn't mean step on it, lift heavy objects with your legs, women like flowers . . .

and get an electric toothbrush.

This Makes Me Happy

There's an economic success story that neither the Democrats nor the Republicans want to acknowledge: low wage workers have doubled their wages in the last five years.

Democrats can't talk about this as progress because they are loath to admit that anything good can happen during the Trump presidency. That's silly, because the President doesn't have that much power and influence over the economy to begin with. Trump has hindered the economy with his trade wars and the general insanity and uncertainty around his policy. Markets like stability. That's enough to condemn Trump. 

Republicans can't talk about the success of low wage earners because their wage increase is mainly due to regulated minimum wage increases. This is anathema to dyed-in-wool conservatives. State and federal mandated minimum wage increases-- according to supply-side conservatives-- will destroy the labor market, make people lose jobs, ensure that there will be less jobs in total, destroy small businesses, and redistribute income until we are a socialist commune. Conservative logic dictates that the job market should not be so tight, because of this enforced wage increases. 

But it is. So the Republicans won't bask in the glory of low wage increases because it contradicts their favorite economic theory.

Instead, we get stories of wage stagnation, despite the tight job market. That's because middle class wages are stagnant, and middle class people are the people who matter. They are the voters. And the people who matter haven't seen wage increases, despite the tight job market. 

But income is getting redistributed, and poor people are less poor, and that means they can take part more in the economy. That's a good thing for a lot of people, not just low wage earners. But nobody in politics is going to admit it.

Progress.

Good for everyone except the media and the politicians.

 

Trump: Ahead of the Curve on this One

While I'm generally loath to admit our Colander-in-chief has any sort of strategic vision for our country, I think he might be ahead of the curve on Weaponized Interdependence; this is the down-side to globalization and both economists and politicians -- especially Trump-- are starting to explore the ramifications and tactics of an interdependent world, a world where countries were pushed by globally competitive free-markets and institutions like the IMF and the World Bank to specialize in what they could produce as efficiently and cheaply as possible and sell it on the world market-- this was supposed to limit warfare-- countries that trade together don't want to blow each other up-- but now countries are recognizing that belligerence can be enacted by disrupting supply chains, enacting tariffs, and banning certain technologies . . . a nice example of this is the battle between the U.S. and China over Huawei cell phone chipsets . . . I don't fully understand this battle, all I know is it sounds petty, detrimental to consumers and workers, and a black mark on diplomacy . . . but Trump seems to have a real handle on this tactic, so kudos to him.

Second Hand News to Me

Fleetwood Mac is good music to listen to while driving to the beach, so I played "Rumours" for my kids earlier in the summer and then I played some of the songs on my guitar and I'm loath to admit that I recently learned that the lyrics to "I Don't Want Know"  are not "I don't want to know the reason why you love me" . . . they are the more inscrutable " I don't want to know the reasons why/ Love keeps right on walking on down the line" and now that I know, I can hear it but for the past thirty-five years, I've been singing it wrong (and I just asked my buddy Dom to sing the song and he got it wrong as well . . . so I told him the actual lyrics and we both decided that the internet is amazing).

Toothbrushes Part I

When we were young and wild, my wife and I shared a toothbrush-- and this went on for over a decade; now that we're mature, we have our separate brushes (which made my students very happy . . . they were quite disgusted by the fact that we shared one brush for that many years) but I'm loath to admit that I'm not sure which brush is mine, so I use whichever one I grab first (there are four brushes in the cup, two purple and two blue) and so I'm going to check with my wife and see if she thinks that a particular brush is "hers" and report back to you . . . we might still be sharing a toothbrush afterall.

Awkward Dave and the Cheesesteak

Last weekend, we took a road trip to my brother-in-law's new place just outside of Harrisburg, and I wasn't terribly excited about making the trip: the weather was beautiful and I didn't want to spend two and half hours in the car-- and we were driving up Saturday, staying the night, and then driving back Sunday-- and I am loath to admit that I was treating these five hours in the car as an ordeal and my poisonous attitude was driving my wife crazy-- and while I admit my behavior was childish and immature, it was a very long drive-- and then, to add salt to the wound-- we couldn't find a spot to get lunch; fans of Awkward Dave know that I don't operate well in social situations when I'm hungry (I don't operate well in social situations to begin with, but add hunger and things get really ugly) and by the time we finally found a cheesesteak place, waited thirty minutes for them to complete our order, and finished the drive to Eddie and Lisa's place, I was grouchy and ravenous and so when we arrived, I immediately sat down and dug into my cheesesteak, which my brother-in-law completely understood because he knows me, but then Catherine's Aunt approached me-- she was visiting as well-- and I guess she was expecting some kind of formal greeting-- a hug or a kiss or something-- and I vaguely understood this expectation because of the way she was standing there, looming over me, and I started to wipe my hands off, but they were all covered in ketchup and melted cheese, and so I made an executive decision, greeted her verbally and kept eating . . . and then a few minutes later, when I was outside,I noticed that her little dog had escaped the house-- and it was my son's fault-- so I yelled (in a panic) to my son "go tell the owner her dog is loose!" and Catherine's Aunt heard this and apparently she was already offended that I didn't give her a hug when I was eating the cheesesteak, and then was doubly offended that I called her "the owner" instead of her name . . . but things were happening rapidly and I was hungry and tired and nervous that the little dog would get run over by a car, and so things were awkward between us for the rest of the day and she brought it up later in the evening, when everyone had drank a fair bit, and wanted to "clear the air" and we had to hug and then she had the nerve to criticize my hug-- I guess it wasn't emotional enough-- but my brother-in-law reminded her that I "wasn't much of a hugger" and I don't think either of us learned anything from the incident, so in that sense it was very much like a Seinfeld episode. 

I Loath to Sell Low, and I Loathe Buying High

While the themes of this blog are often tangential and desultory, there is one thing that I always get right: the difference between "loath" and "loathe," and Justin Fox does as well, making excellent use of the verb "loath" in his book The Myth of the Rational Market: a history of risk, reward, and delusion on Wall Street; he is describing Charles Dow's famous and absurdly obvious stock strategy -- buy during upward movement (bull markets) and sell during downward ones (bear markets)-- but Fox explains that "Dow himself was loath to declare when that direction had changed" . . . "aye, there's the rub."

How To Use The Self-Checkout Kiosk At the Library

They have a new self-checkout kiosk at the library, so you can borrow a book without having to undergo the scrutiny of the librarian . . . now you can take out all those racy romance novels and sex manuals and hemorrhoid treatment tomes that you were previously too embarrassed to hand to the old lady at the desk, for fear that she'd make some small talk about them; I didn't go for anything particularly racy, instead I checked out Anne Coulter's newest book Demonic . . . I was curious as to what she has to say, but never wanted to be seen holding one of her books . . . I only read a few chapters, but I think I got the idea of the theme-- she creates a portrait of a typical liberal and then attacks that portrait, and in this book she paints a liberal as someone belonging to a mindless and dangerous "mob," which strikes me as funny, because-- according to Paul Krugman-- I am certainly a liberal, and maybe even a lazy progressive, but, as anyone who knows me knows, I hate mobs (unless I'm 19 years old and moshing to Primus) and absolutely refuse to take part in them . . . I get claustrophobic and anxious in large groups, hate chanting and marching, and I won't even do "the wave" at a sporting event, and so it's like an outer body experience reading this book-- as I know Coulter is attacking me, I'm right in her wheelhouse . . . I drive "the third most liberal car in America" and I think gay people should be able to get married, I think women should have free reign over their vaginas-- including the right to vajazzle-- I think drugs should be legalized, I think assault weapons should be illegalized, I think we should fund the arts, and I think the environment is more important than the economy, and-- though I am loath to admit it-- I think that I should probably be taxed a bit more and people that make a boatload of money should be taxed substantially more, so that we can make the infrastructure of this country as great as possible . . . and that probably completes someone's stereotype of a typical "liberal," and I'm sure I've got my own composite of a stereotypical conservative-- though none of the conservatives I know fit into that composite . . . Coulter occasionally attacks these run of the mill beliefs with inside jokes and sarcasm, but mainly it's this other thing: conservatives aren't the crazy racist zealous mob, liberals are! liberals are afraid of science! (unless it's evolution, I guess) liberals are the KKK! etc. and though I wish I had the patience to make it all the way through, because it's important to see both sides of the political spectrum, even the radical political spectrum, I found it much more politically enlightening to finish George R.R. Martin's A Storm of Swords . . . he is the conservative of the fantasy genre, concerned with realpolitik, finance, defense, and tactics, instead of happy elves.

Exciting Technological Times

I am excited to announce that we have a new printer/scanner (but I am loath to admit that it is still inside the box it was delivered in . . . it's been sitting on the kitchen table in that box for nearly two weeks, and though each and every day I announce, "We're going to set up the scanner today!" we never seem to get around to it . . . and my worry is that if I don't do it soon, it is going to become obsolete).

Loath and Loathe Revisited

Two things I should be loath to admit that I do not loathe: 1) spinning class-- because of plantar fasciitis, I am going light with the soccer and basketball for a few weeks, and so my wife convinced me to try spinning while I am healing, and I must admit the time goes very quickly and the work-out is intense-- though I feel very goofy biking to the beat 2) the Marky Mark song "Good Vibrations," which I was actually pleased to hear during the aforementioned spinning class.

Grammar Lessons and Musical Confessions

If you don't know the distinction between "loath" and "loathe" and/or you want to know the eight songs that I am loath to admit that I do not loathe, then head over to Gheorghe: The Blog . . . I give you The Dave Guarantee that you won't regret it . . . in fact, I promise "music and fun . . . and if you're not careful you may learn something before it's done."

Nothing Says Welcome Home Like Giant Wasps

I used to consider turning on the porch light after dark a polite gesture, especially if Catherine was still out, as the porch light illuminates the keyhole . . . but I no longer think this, because for the past two weeks, the light has invariably attracted one to three giant wasps-- which hover, buzz, and stupidly bump into the light and the door-- and if I'm feeling brave then I swat and kill them, but they always miraculously regenerate by the next evening; and though I am loath to admit it, when I got home from the pub last Thursday night, they looked so menacing that I took the coward's way out, and elected to avoid them completely; I entered my house through the side door, rather than fight my way through them.