Alms for the Poor Ink-Stained Wretch

Good afternoon. Today we talk about word games and liars, and there will be an entertaining poll, but first we’re going to talk about money. I hate talking about money, so I’m only doing this as a gift for you.

I love NPR.  I love it because it is dedicated to entertaining you all the time; if the story is about land use policies in Guinea-Bissau, they will make sure they tell it in a compelling way.  It’s their great skill. “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me” never cheaps out.  They get great standup comics with hair-trigger synaptic speed.   I love NPR….  

… Except for a few weeks a year, when they beg for your money.  At those times I hate my local NPR affiliate, not because it is asking for money (it has to) but because, for those few weeks a year, it abandons its central mission – the very reason you are a listener – and becomes a boring, humorless, self-celebratory content-less mess.   Their broadcasts feature interviews with administrators and low-level staff members who confide that they are pleased as punch to be working at such a fine company that does such important work.  They are not professional speakers. Their lines are delivered more woodenly than an Eberhard Faber #2. The stations endlessly remind you of the terrific work they do.  They dangle little freebies in front of you — tote bags, socks, tiny radios in a jar tuned to one station only. They beg you. They guilt-trip you.  My household donates monthly to WAMU, but I do not listen to their pledge weeks, because on those terrible days, they are betraying their craft, and me.  

So, today, I am going to tdo what they do, but try to do so without betrayal. It’s hard. I am going to ask you for money, but am going to try to do it while entertaining you.  Wish me luck. 

Did you hear about the constipated mathematician?  He worked it out with a pencil. 

Past, Present and Future walked into a bar. The room was tense.

Old man walking on the beach, finds and rubs a lamp.  Genie pops out, offers one wish.  Man pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket, draws a crude map of the Middle East.  “See this country?  That’s Syria.  This one’s Israel.  Here’s Lebanon and Iran and Iraq, United Arab Emirates.  I wish you to bring peace to this troubled land for the next millennium.”  “My God,” says the genie.  “I am a great genie but that task is too great, even for me.  Can’t you ask for something else?” Old man thinks, finally says, “Do you think maybe you can see to it that once in a while my wife gives me a blow job?” Genie thinks, and says: “Lemme see that map again.”    

Woman walks into a bar.  Says, “Give me an entendre. Make it a double.”  So the bartender gives it to her.  

Speaking of money, give it to me. 

 

We have reached the three-month point in The Gene Pool.  It has been a wild, successful ride, thanks to you. We have subscribers in 49 states (get on the stick, New Hampshire) and in 74 countries. At this 3-month point, it is a Substack custom that, for successful products, that access becomes limited for those who don’t pay dues.  If you are a lurker who never participates – no comments, no questions, no entries to The Invitational – you’re free to hang on that way, if you’re happy with that. You will still be in good standing.  But if you use us for that kind of participatory access, you will need to become a paid subscriber if you aren’t already one.  There will be a semi-paywall. 

Why should you consider this, even if you don’t participate now?  Well, here’s an example.  Let’s say one day in The Gene Pool I opine that a certain man who has recently died – a semi-famous man – lived a secretly deceitful life.  That he was sexually licentious, was morally bankrupt, and clubbed baby seals to death for sport.  Now you happen to know that is entirely untrue, that he was a pillar of the community, a philanthropist, a saint. You know that I’ve made a terrible mistake because you are the man’s widow. Now, if you had access to “comments” or “questions,” you could be heard, and clear things up — I had apparently confused “Weinstock” with “Weinstein,” — and get an abject apology.  But otherwise, you are helpless. You cannot sue on behalf of a dead person.  You are screwed, as is the memory of your beloved husband.  Or perhaps — just spitballing here — you realized you have a brilliant idea for an Invitational entry, a likely winner. Eternal fame awaits. But to see it in print, you’d have to give the idea to someone else to enter under their name, and the only subscriber you know is Wally, the pencil-necked jerk from Accounts Receivable.

Okay, I admit those are kind of desperate, as explanations go.  Try this, though.

The following is a segment from my introductory Substack page, which you probably have not read because it is buried deep in the remote Substack wetlands: 

Why do you need to subscribe? You don't.  Let's face it, there are things you need more: Requited love, an end to the existential psychic pain of our times, a reliable method of scratching the geometric center of your back without backing up to a door jamb and rubbing on it with an orgasmic look on your face, like a orangutan writhing his back against a tree, etc.  The more appropriate question is whether there is anything you can get of greater value than me that also costs $50 a year, which is less than a dollar a week.   

Okay, you could travel back in time to 1987 and get an entire McDonald's hamburger with a Coke -- or further back, to 1849 San Francisco, where, in a restaurant featuring "gold-rush specials," a heaping plate of corned beef and cabbage went for just about a buck, too.  But renting the time machines would cost a pretty penny.  In the present day (I have precisely calculated this) you could buy 5 of those sallow, bland orange "circus peanuts" candies for a buck every week, but if you are going to do that, you might as well just consume the free Styrofoam packing peanuts you get in the mail.  Or even the cardboard box in which they came.  Gustatorily, the same. 

I know what you are thinking: You are thinking: Sure, this guy is probably marginally more satisfying than circus peanuts, but is he worth $4.15 a month?  It's a fair question.  I refer it to your conscience.

One more item of business: It is customary at this point in a business pitch to wrap things up by presenting a grand, sweeping philosophical argument for why you must buy this product.  Alas, it is not appropriate because brevity, as they say, is the soul of wit.  There will be nothing grand or sweeping, here.  Just this modest observation: 

We live in terrifying times.  When people are filled with grief, they need to cry.  When people are filled with fear, they need to laugh. 

Finally, if you start the paid subscription and then decide it was a mistake, you can send me an email with your name and address and I will apologize for being awful and unfunny, and mail you one circus peanut, autographed.

What did the left eye say to the right eye? “Just between us, something smells.”  

Guy is being interviewed for a job. The manager asks him what is his biggest flaw. “That would probably be my brutal honesty.” The manager smiles. “I’m not sure that’s such a flaw.” Guy says, “Who gives a shit what you think?”

I don’t like Russian nesting dolls. They’re so full of themselves.

A British bobby, gunless by law, is chasing a thief. He yells, “Stop! or I’ll say ‘stop!’ again.”

Anyway, we hope to have the firewall in place by next Tuesday. If you are going to become a paid subscriber, you should do it fast because last-minute processing time might delay your entry into this exciting world. The previous sentence is a baldfaced lie; there will be no delay — Substack is a genius at collecting money. But given how extravagantly pharma companies lie in their commercials, I am, comparatively, George Washington.

We interrupt this scintillating Gene Pool with two paragraphs of boring but necessary boilerplate:

After the intro (which you are reading now), there will be some early questions and answers  added on –  and then I'll keep adding them as the hour progresses and your fever for my opinions grows and multiplies and metastasizes.  To see those later Q&As,  just refresh your screen every once in a while. 

As always, you can also leave comments. They’ll congregate at the bottom of the post, and allow you to annoy and hector each other and talk mostly amongst yourselves. Though we will stop in from time to time.

Back to actual Content. The remainder of this Gene Pool will involve newspaper word games. Even if you do not do crosswords, acrostics, etc., you’ll find you will be qualified to opine.

The poll below concerns a bit of a debate among crossword enthusiasts about what is the appropriate material for the puzzles. It can be easily summarized: Some crossword critics — notably, the best one of all, the acerbic, cantankerous, pseudonymous Rex Parker, who critiques the NYT puzzle every single day — thinks crosswords should not include as answers things that might disturb people: Specifically, the names of disreputable or controversial individuals, or things that are icky, like “phlegm.” He most recently chastised The Times for including these two answers in the same puzzle: Sam Bankman-Fried, the financial scammer, and Bret Stephens, the Times political columnist who is a controversial, reliable uber-conservative. I’m intuiting this, but Rex seems to feel that a mention is an endorsement. He’d definitely complain about “Trump” or “Tucker.”

It’s an ongoing debate. A Twitterer named @ordermuppet recently said this: “[Crosswords are] a leisure activity and diversion from the cares of the world … some say Xwords should stick to only pleasant vibes. 2) Some bad guys LIKE infamy and we should deny them or risk tempting new ones … Sometimes one just wants to have their relaxation in a safe place.” I disagree with this whole premise: To me, any mention is … a mention. Period. It’s safe. Virtually nothing should be off limits, except things like racism, sexism or rank obscenity.

But maybe I am wrong? Judging from social media, plenty of people think I am wrong.

Question 1: Do you think that, as a policy, crosswords appearing in general-interest publications should avoid having answers that refer to unlikeable / disreputable / criminal / controversial people?

Question 2: Do you think, in general, crosswords should avoid having answers that may be seen as icky or disturbingly personal, like phlegm, penis, vagina, vomit, douche?

Now, onto the New York Times, which did something I have never seen that particular newspaper do before. They directly lied to readers. Not in their pages, which would have been truly horrendous, but one on one, by email, to people who complained about a recent decision of theirs.

This month, they killed the Acrostic from their website. If you are a devotee, you know that the Acrostic, constructed by the wife-husband team of Emily Cox and Henry Rathvon, has consistently been the smartest, most intellectual, most instructive, most entertaining — probably the best puzzle available anywhere. Taking it offline — it will allegedly still be available in print, but I doubt for very long — was such a dramatic step that Cox and Rathvon resigned, just flat-out quit, rather than write for a dreadfully diminished audience. The Times is looking for a worthy replacement constructor of this highly specialized puzzle. Good luck with that, The Times.

Here’s where the lie comes in: When people wrote in to complain, they got a stunning response by email: The Times said they’d decided the puzzle “is best solved in a printed format.” This is like saying that getting to Chicago is best accomplished by mule. If they delivered their explanation to a roomful of acrostic devotees — that it’s best solved on paper — they’d be met by derisive jeers and thrown vegetables if there were any available, and feces if there weren’t. Whatever was readily available, such as protractors and pocket protectors.

I don’t want to get too specific because the precise explanation would be boring to people who have never done the Acrostic, but doing it on paper involves constant erasures, scribble-overs, torn paper, and pointless, time-wasting incidental drudgery, alll of which are pleasantly handled for you by a computer. No one thinks it’s better on paper. I love the Acrostic but will not bow to extortion by The Man and buy the Times to solve the puzzle in that annoying forum. Also, Emily and Henry are gone.

Why did The Times actually kill the Acrostic? We don’t know. They’ve been silent on that. (Psst - I bet it involves money.)

Either way, their stance is craven, insufferable, and patently untrue. It would be like saying the best way to keep The Gene Pool alive is by not subscribing to it.

See what I did there?

On to your questions and my answers.

Q: I want to suggest that the Gene Pool consider creating contests using Dall-e 2. 

It's free to sign up; you get 50 free credits that month, and every month after that you get 15 free credits, and always the option to buy more credits. https://openai.com/dall-e-2/

Of course, this means allowing people to upload the images that their description generated with the software.  And I understand that the artists whose style is imitated (if one is imitating an artist) are concerned about their rights. — Marylander 410

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A:  This might be a great idea.  Dall-e is an excellent AI site that lets you merely describe what you want to see in a painting, and it paints it in seconds.  I tried: “Van Gogh painting of Jesus smoking a cigar,” and got this:  

Pat and I will look into the possibility of this.

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Q: In a recent Wapo column, E.J. Dionne wrote "But it’s closer to the truth to see Putin as trying to build a right-wing nationalist international movement (no pun intended)." Really? Isn't this the same as saying something really offensive followed by "no offense?" Or saying something untoward about someone followed by "bless his/her/their heart?" I would say that the pun WAS intended. What say you? Also, I found it funny. IS it?

A: Yes it is funny and it is fair because “no pun intended” is obviously a joke. It’s doubly funny because it stops you for a moment. You have to think about what the “pun” is. And it’s triply funny because it is about poopy, which is always funny.

Okay, I asked E.J. about this but he hasn’t answered. Tom the Butcher says he meant nationalist-internationalist, which seems more in character, but less of a pun. Still waiting the definitive, from the source.

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Q: Heisenberg is driving down a highway and is stopped by a police officer: "Do you know you were going eighty-seven miles an hour?" "Great!" answers Heisenberg. "Now I'm lost."

Got that from a cypher I decrypted this month.  

A: Very good.  It requires an instapoll.

TIMELY TIP: If you're reading this on an email: Now is the time to  Click here to get to my webpage, then click on the top headline (In this case, “Alms for the Poor….” for my full column, and comments, and real-time questions and answers, and be able to refresh and see new questions and answers that appear as I regularly update the post. For all others, remember to keep refreshing. I’m answering new questions constantly.

Q: Gene, after reading some of Dave Barry's books, I realized that Dave and I share a common affliction. We are both SPVs, or Survivors of Plymouth Valiants. I remember my childhood car for its green-on-green color scheme, vinyl seats (requiring beach towels in the summer so the seats wouldn't burn our legs), and power steering that was more accidental than by design (the column just became looser over the years). To its credit though, I learned to drive in it, and the A/C was just as good in year 17 as it was on day one. Gene, what can you tell us about your family's first car? Or did you mostly take the subway as a kid?

A:  I’ve answered a similar question before but referred to my first car.  The first car in my family when I was a tot was a 1957 Chevy Bel Air, one of the sleekest, hottest, most iconic cars ever made, right up there with the 65 Mustang in total coolth.  What was funny is that it was driven always below the speed limit by my father, a wonderful, fine father, and a deeply un-hip man.  When driving, he always wore a fedora.  He sometimes signaled both with his turn signal AND his left arm, just to be sure.  He was a man of very regular habits  came home from work (15 miles away) every day at exactly 6:05.  If it was 6:10, we knew something had happened. He had no particular appreciation for design. He bought  it because he liked Chevrolet and it was the newest one. 

Q: I was blissfully unaware of Scott Adams' political leanings, but there were 2 recent Dilberts that I found quite amusing, yet also made me a little uncomfortable.  Both poked fun at the concept of personal pronouns, which I'm having a hard time accepting. My question:  The pace of cultural change seems to be accelerating. Is it really, or does it just seem that way as I get older?

A: Both.  Mostly, the second, though, I think.  Imagine how people of your current age felt in, say, 1965.  Those kids today! 

Q: Gene: Given that Scott Adams wrote about the experiences of a fictional "Engineer" (and then was dropped from respectable newspapers) and Marymount University recently announced its elimination of Liberal Arts majors, perhaps it's time to put those cut majors to work? I'm thinking of the Dilbert-replacement being a serial about a Liberal Arts major in the workplace (actually IN an office building with a water cooler, copier, and everything). The contest would describe humorous major vs. job description combinations that could be featured in the replacement comic strip. Examples: A former English major is a newspaper staff poet, Secondary Education grad is a primary care physician, Humanities person as a disaster recovery specialist ("Oh, the humanity!"), and so forth. Maybe?

A: I initially thought this was a stupid idea.  It would be a sitcom called “English Majors” with a rotating cast.  In each episode it would be a fish out of water thing.  English majors find jobs for which they are ill qualified, and bring their attitudes to the job, to great hilarity.  And English major as a car mechanic could be really funny. 

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Q: Gene --- Thought you might want to see and critique a ChatGPT "Weingarten."  This was generated in response to "write a paragraph on dogs in the style of Gene Weingarten."  From my end (the one that speaks...words), a "Yes --- but not quite." Dale of Green Gables:

There are few things in this world that can bring as much pure joy and unconditional love into our lives as dogs. These loyal companions have been by our sides for thousands of years, serving as protectors, hunters, and faithful friends. They come in all shapes and sizes, from the tiny Chihuahua to the massive Great Dane, but they all share one thing in common: an unwavering devotion to their human families. Whether they are romping in the park, snuggling on the couch, or simply gazing up at us with their soulful eyes, dogs have an uncanny ability to lift our spirits and make us feel loved. They remind us of what is truly important in life: companionship, loyalty, and unconditional love. And for that, we should be eternally grateful. 

A: I love how it captured my rapier wit.  This may be the AI’s biggest hurdle, as I’ve said.  It doesn’t get humor yet.   Alas, it will. 

Q: Do you think that anyone has pointed out to Marjorie Traitor Greene that since 2020, Georgia has been a blue state?

A: Another questioner  asks whether a questioner from last week was being infantile and unfunny by calling her Margerine  Trailer Grease.     The answer to that was yes, infantile.   You are infantile, too.  That’s as far as I go.   But to answer your question, I don’t think she thinks about the consequences of anything.  Such as her national divorce, for example..  The consequences would be catastrophic for the USA, and the world.  This hasn’t occurred to her. 

Q: Comment, not question. The US Divorce is NOT a talking point, it is a phrase i read an love: ,performative idiocy. Which is getting her a lot of attention, which is what she feeds upon. Let's treat her as a toddler and ignore her. Close the door. Walk away.  Please.   

A: I basically disagree with this philosophy.  Democracy depends on an informed public.  I’m serious about this.  

Q: Thank you for your sacrifice of continuing to listen to what Rep Greene says.  I couldn’t do it anymore.  What do we owe you? –  Former Washingtonian Mandy 

A: I think this Gene Pool makes the answer abundantly clear.  I should have added that as a benefit for subscribing:   Send me $5 a month and you won’t have to listen to MTG.  

Q: Why I favor the red states leaving the union: they are a financial drag on the rest of the country, receiving more in federal money than they contribute with their income taxes. Good riddance to the crazies!

A: Not a good attitude. For one thing, they’d still get that money, unless it was a literal secession, in which case you’d have to also favor the death of hundreds of thousands of people in an actual Civil War. 

Q: Gene --- There’s biological or chronological age, of course, and then there’s what geriatricians call "subjective" age — how you actually feel. Scientists are finding that people who feel younger than their chronological age are typically healthier and more psychologically resilient than those who feel older. So in other words — not only are you as old as you feel, but unfortunately, you are too often as "old" as others feel.  So --- do you actually feel 69 ?

A: Physically, I feel 91.  In terms of mental acuity,  I feel, I dunno, about 52.  Philosophically and attitudinally, I feel about 17. 

Q: Gene --- I frequently expose myself to art (no, not a fetish) and other cultural endeavors but find, in addition to exposing myself, getting annoyed, at the seeming imperative these days for what is often an awkward and shabby "relevance."  Maybe it's one of the effects of onrushing farthood but, exhibitions seem to have more and more taken on a determined "point of view." Whatever happened to "ars gratia artis ?"

A: I have no idea what you are talking about, but note that in the space of a single short paragraph, you TWICE report that you frequently expose yourself.  Is this a confession of some sort?  

Q:  Gene --- Have always been fond of eponymous laws and principles — many amusing, but all with a ring of truth. Apart from the well-known Murphy’s Law some of my favourites are:

Brandolini’s Law: "The amount of energy needed to refute bullshit is an order of magnitude bigger than to produce it."

Betteridge’s Law of Headlines: "Any headline which ends in a question mark can be answered by the word ‘no.'"

Clarke’s (Sir Arthur C. Clarke) Third Law: "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic."

Cunningham’s Law: "the best way to get the right answer on the internet is not to ask a question, it’s to post the wrong answer."

Hanlon’s Razor: "Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by stupidity.".

Is there at least one "Weingarten's Law ?"

A: Not yet, but there will be by next Gene Pool. 

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Q: You wrote, "Their so full of themselves." I assume you did that on purpose, as it just occurred to me that if I do not pay, I will not be able to nitpick your spelling. I'll be signing up just as soon as I sell enough Style Invitational t-shirts and magnets to raise the $50.

A: I did not write that! Look at it again! (Unlike newspapers, Substack felicitously permits re-editing without penalty, requirements for strike-throughs, etc. )

Q: Did you know you were famous? I mean REALLY famous! Merriam Webster cites you as the source for a usage example for the word 'tuchus'? Here's the link to that entry

Q: Here we go again. A Texas state rep (Bryan Slaton, R) is introducing a referendum on whether Texas should leave the union. Apart from it being unconstitutional, what's your take on this? Attention-grabbing? Or serious shit?

A: I am convinced it serious shit BECAUSE it is all attention grabbing.

Q: if you would like my money, please write a limerick about why you would like my money, but use the word potato instead of money

A: I shall do so, in the comments or here, after 2 pm. I consider this a commitment by you.

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Q:  I’m going in a flight to Seattle with my daughter, whom I love. Whenever I get on a flight, I always give the flight attendants candy or chocolate or whatever so they don't look so closely at the size of my carry-on. Today I’m bringing chocolate bunnies and peeps. We shall see if that gets me a free Bloody Mary!

A: This is sweet, as it were. But I note two things.  Telling us you love your daughter – extraneously to no other point, as far as I can see – is, well, kind of reprehensible.  But more reprehensible is that you are one of those people who thuds and knee-decapitates people while banging your oversize luggage down the aisle, and then holds up traffic by trying to squeeze it into overhead bins.  While other folks played by the rules to their inconvenience (no one likes baggage claim.)  So defend yourself. The class is waiting.  I am prepared to revise my opinion.  

Q:  Everybody seems to be a "genius" today. The term is tossed around so much as to be virtually meaningless and is largely (IMHO) in the "eyes of the beholder" or, more specifically, society’s influencers. Is the literally one in a million autistic savant a "genius" because they can calculate with almost the speed of a computer or, play a piano sonata from memory after one hearing ? Is acknowledged skill "genius ?" Generally not. But then I think the term is too often used as a way of keeping those with merely superb ability from getting above themselves by those of no-to-lesser ability. "Well, he may have won the ___________ (take your pick) but he’s no genius." It is held out as a sort of "Holy Grail.’"And, as I said, virtually meaningless. What's your take on "genius." Known any ?

A: Genius is not a function of skill or knowledge.  It is entirely about breathtaking creativity and innovation..   I know I have met four geniuses, at least: Bill Watterson, Dave Barry, David Simon and Garry Trudeau.  It is instructive that three of the four are primarily known for humor.  Oh, also Richard Thompson.  I’m sure there are more I am not thinking of.   Johnny Hart, before he stopped drinking.  I know these are all men, but I don’t think that means much.  There is one woman, but I can’t name her here for complicated but honorable reasons.   And I am sure there are others.  

Q: Any chance a new owner will rename the Washington Commanders? That name -- jeez -- it's a million times better than the old one, but c'mon -- it makes no sense (all commanders, no troops?). Since the Czar's very first Style Invitational was about renaming that team, surely you have some better ones you've thought about over the years?

A: What a timely question. Watch for the new Invitational on Thursday.

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Q: Have always been fascinated by this business of pseudonyms, noms de plume or pen names. Under US law you cannot copyright a pseudonym, but you can copyright/register a work using one. On the other hand, while you can trademark a pen name, you cannot so protect your real name. And no, you cannot use "Gene Weingarten" or "Jane Austen" as a pseudonym. But then again, a publisher could obtain the rights to a pen name and use any number of writers to create work under the same nom de plume. Have you ever been tempted to use a pen name ?  Maybe something like, "Max Weingarten ?"  Dale of Green Gables

A: No, because the only one I’d want to use is already used by its owner, a journalist named “Matt Bonesteel.”

Q: Willful ignorance plays a oversized role in too large a segment of the American population these days. So, I was interested to read a new book by British historian, Peter Burke, on the subject of genuine or feigned, conscious and unconscious lack of knowledge or understanding though history. The book, "Ignorance: A Global History," also points the way to a growing concern.  Where once ignorance was  generally a strong motivation for learning and a focus for intellectual efforts --- with "influencers," chatbots and just about any information a keystroke or two away,  that motivation seems to be in danger of atrophying,  Like that famous George Eastman slogan for his then revolutionary new Eastman Kodak camera, “You press the button, we do the rest."  Should we be worried about a declining motivation to learn  ?

A: Yes. Very much.  It runs parallel to the GPS’s effect on where we are in the world, and how to get from one place to the other.  We no longer rise above the map to see the Big Picture of where we are.

Q: Do you own a tux? If so, when have you worn it?

A: I do. Last worn 30 years ago. Two sizes too small.

Q:What is the best advice you've given to your kids? What's the worst?

A: I’m not sure I’ve ever given them really good advice. Really bad advice, definitely. Once Molly told me she was short of breath before a big college exam. A former hypochondriac, I assured her it was anxiety. Turned out to be a lung embolism that might have killed her had she not followed better advice and went to the hospital. Still haunts me a bit.

Q: So what do you think about the MLB time clock?  It's clearly already making a big difference in game length.  Haven't you said that you don't like to stay up late?   

A: I like it.  It has mostly eliminated anus batters who take 30 seconds to get comfortable at the plate for each pitch.   Mike Hargrove would have had to retire. This is great. 

Q: I saw the name Dr. Dye today. Is it wrong that I went looking for an obituary to see if it was an aptonym?

A: No, it is exactly right.  I do the same all the time.  Of course, for me it is a professional necessity.

Q: As a public health scientist, it makes my nerd heart sing to know that you went directly to the Cochrane Review that Bret Stephens referenced and *actually* read the thing! In addition to published systematic reviews in journals, Cochrane is an excellent resource for anyone who has a public health question and wants to know the scoop from a professional committee that has carefully has read ALL available and vetted evidence (even when the evidence base, in and of itself, may barely be sufficient to answer the question being asked). You can search topics here: https://www.cochranelibrary.com/search.  I recommend to Cochrane lay-readers that they first read the plain language summary then read through the full conclusion section in the full-length reports. Which brings me to my very polite & loving suggestion: Can you add a link to the Cochrane review you reference in your intro so that readers can easily click & read? It makes my nerd heart weep when scientific articles are not linked in online discussions of them. Thank you! (Also: I think you ARE onto something regarding the timing of your Covid vax & the mildness of your symptoms. Based on what we know about waning immunity it does not stand to reason that a person would have perfectly uniform protection for the duration of the 3-month period following peak activation of the full immune response, even if the decline in protection over that period is relatively small. One thing hampering our knowledge of this is that for logistical reasons we simply can't be collecting antibody titers every few days for several months after people are vaxxed, so we have to do a lot of extrapolation about the durability of the immune protection based on when titers WERE collected.)

A:  Thank you, Cochrane link coming up. 

A: COCHRANE REPORT

Q:  My mom (age 84), our friend (72), and I (52) are going to Europe in April and have decided to pharmacy-hop for a second bivalent booster. Everyone we have asked (mostly pharmacists and public health officials) recommended against it except the friend’s doctor, but apparently we are anti-science. Question: does your study of one suggest we should get that booster precisely 21 days before the first flight instead of earlier? 

A: Yes BUT YOU DIDN’T HEAR IT FROM ME.  That would be practicing medicine without a license.

Wait, here’s the limerick demanded in return for a paid subscription!

An angry old scrawler of print

Seeks handouts from a skinflint.

Not $ with eight O's

Just a bag of ... potatoes

 Nudge nudge wink wink hint hint.

Alternative version, edited by Pat:

An angry old scrawler of print

Seeks just a small gift, not a mint.

Not $ with eight O's

Just a bag of ... potatoes

Nudge nudge nudge wink wink wink hint.

AAnd we’re down. Thanks again for a good chat. Please keep sending in questions and comments. I’ll use them on Thursday, with the Invitational Gene Pool.

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