Showing posts with label bk drinkwater. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bk drinkwater. Show all posts

Tuesday, 2 July 2013

Efficient etiquette

Rules of etiquette often seem designed to be inefficient. The point of the European "tines down" fork rule seems to be to hobble the eater, as I'd suggested a while back:
Etiquette rules, like the downward fork tines rule, that deliberately hobble the person making the display have a signalling value: it's the peacock's tail. Folks who've been able to spend hundreds of hours practicing how to eat in a deliberately hobbled fashion are then able to demonstrate finesse in that form of eating. Everyone else at the table will recognize them as being from the leisured class, whose parents either had sufficient servants to spend time drilling that technique into the children, or who invested that time in lieu of other pursuits in early adulthood. Either way, you're demonstrating that you've had time and leisure to spare.
It's nice to see an eloquent defence of my "tines up" alternative, and mocking of the tines-down types. Via @bkdrinkwater, here's Slate:
We’ve bastardized Euro-manners to make them still more convenient. Many Europeans stubbornly deploy their forks tines down—either as a spear, or, if the food isn’t stab-able, as a surface on which to awkwardly pile or smoosh food (awkward piling is particularly English—“How many peas can dance on the back of a fork?” asks Kate Fox, in Watching the English). But the pragmatic Americans who’ve abandoned the cut-and-switch almost always use the fork tines-up—i.e., as an efficient shovel—whenever it’s convenient to do so.

This hybrid style of eating is how Anna Post herself eats. But America’s lurch toward such modified Continental-style eating has been worryingly uneven. Nearly everyone I spoke with associated cutting-and-switching with older Americans and Midwesterners, and no-switching with younger and coastal diners.

Another culture war is just what we don’t need—especially one in which we’re all waving sharp implements, and both sides are open to plausible charges of unedifying Europhilia. Perhaps the best way to avoid open warfare is to formalize many Americans’ simplified take on Continental style (no fork-switching, but tines pointing any damn way you please) as itself an American creation—an efficient, relaxed blending of old and new worlds.
The "cut-and-switch" is the practice of switching the fork into the dominant hand after cutting; it's generally considered gauche by the Europeans and high-class Europhile Americans. Proper etiquette has the fork remaining in the left hand after cutting. But the Slate piece notes that the cut-and-switch is less efficient than the European standard of keeping the fork in the left hand.

This may be a problem for my "table etiquette is the peacock's tail" theory - especially if America switches entirely to "tines up, no-switching" - almost the most efficient form of food delivery. But note the almost: try bringing a spork along with you to a fancy restaurant. Drinkwater might call you a savage!

Tuesday, 24 August 2010

Peak helium?

At the ACT regional conference a while back David Round argued that we need to be seriously preparing for peak-everything, with the prices of oil and other commodities set to go through the roof and disastrous consequences sure to follow. As I was the speaker immediately after him, I opened by offering him there a bet:
Wager 1: If the price of a bundle of 20 commodities, chosen by David Round, grows in value by more than the S&P 500 over the next 20 years, Eric owes David $500. If not, David owes Eric $500. We will take the value of the bundle and of the S&P averaged over the five-year periods 2006-2010 and 2026-2030.

Wager 2: If world per capita GDP increases by less than 15% in real terms over the next twenty years, Eric owes David $500; otherwise, David owes Eric $500.
David is still choosing his bundle of commodities; I'll look forward to blogging the full details when things are settled.

But he might worry about adding helium to his portfolio. BK Drinkwater explains nicely:

And this brings me to the first in an occasional series: BK's Investment Tips.

Today's tip is: Helium! It's a lock!


An impending shortage means prices will go up. So stock up now while the Federal Helium Reserve keeps selling the stuff to you at Before Peak Helium rates. Those suckers are so stupid, they don't even realize that it's vital for the world's governments to stock up on non-renewable resources so as to ensure they never get used. All you have to do to profit: buy helium today at today's rates, and hold onto it until Peak Helium, when prices will skyrocket and you'll be richer than Rockefeller.

Of course, there are a few practical difficulties.

If you believe in Peak Helium, you should probably invest now, before everyone else catches on and drives the price up. Since everyone else should be doing the same, we should have seen some movement in the market already. We haven't. That kinda suggests you're out on your own.

There's no clearing house that covers helium futures, so you're going to have to go over the counter with Uncle Sam. I'm guessing that if you believe in Peak Helium, you're also convinced that the United States is a substantial default risk.

And since we're talking forwards now rather than futures, it might be a good idea to give some thought to where you might stick all that helium when it's delivered. If you can't think of anything, I have suggestions.

My point? Don't talk to me about Peak Helium, or Peak Metal, or Peak Oil, or Peak Anything Else until you've put your money where your mouth is. More gently, and paraphrasing a billboard on my street: there's probably no Peak [Insert Commodity Here], so stop worrying and enjoy your life.
The lock was a particularly nice touch.