A New Year's walk in the arb with Althouse and Meade.

You may have noticed the new comments policy around here.

My new message above the comments composition window is:

I value all comments made in good faith. Try to understand this concept. It's not about your point of view or your mode of expression. We love disputes and diversity. But I won't allow bad faith commenters to leverage their destructiveness on my commitment to free speech.

Following this new policy and with Meade helping me, we've been deleting commenters we believe are writing in the comments with the purpose of wrecking the forum and driving away the people who enjoy the comments section as a place of free expression.

It's hard to draw this line, and it's possible that we're seeing some commenters the wrong way. The message at the comments window also says "If your comments are deleted and you don't understand why, write to Meade, who is helping me with this," but Meade tells me no one has yet emailed him, so I tend to think we've identified the "bad faithers." Meade says "There are about a dozen. Call them 'The Dirty Dozen.'"

Now, we can also err the other way. There might be a commenter who impresses us with a clever form of expression, even as he hurls insults. My orientation toward free speech has made me very tolerant of people like that, even when they attack me and the commenters here. I've gone very far defending edgy and harsh expression. That's part of why my new policy is about the good faith/bad faith distinction. That distinction depends on the writer's purpose, and purpose can be hard to discern, especially in clever writers.

In this context, there was a commenter who offended a lot of people, but he crafted his comments quite creatively. We delete him now as one of the bad faithers, but there are some ex-commenters who — elsewhere on the internet — excoriate me for leaving his comments up as long as I did. I'm not going to link to these folks whose idea of a good time is attacking me. I'm just going to invite them — and anybody else who's been following this dispute — to click "more" and see a comment that should take them aback.

Turkeys and Jesus.

11 minutes of walking and driving, with Althouse and Meade... and turkeys and Jesus.

Get ready for another debate... and hang out here, while I live-blog.

In 15 minutes, "the Republican presidential candidates will convene for the 13th televised debate of the 2012 cycle, the fourth from Fox News." They're in Sioux City, Iowa, on Fox News.

8:15: Rick Perry is the Tim Tebow.

8:20: Ron Paul identifies 2 factions in Congress: those who are for welfare and those who are for warfare. (He's against both.)

8:22: Listening to Huntsman, I blurt out: "He'd be a great candidate if only he hadn't worked in the Obama administration." He just can't get any respect. It's kind of sad! He was reelected governor with 80% of the vote. He's used to being immensely popular, so it must be bewildering not to get any traction. And yet, he knows exactly what his problem is. Too bad... perhaps for all of us.

8:25: The first commercial break. I go over to read what my son John is live-blogging:

9:07 - Rick Santorum is asked why he's doing so badly when he's spent more time in Iowa than any of the other candidates. "I'm counting on the people of Iowa to catch fire for me." He says he presents a "clear contrast" with the others because he's been a consistent conservative. If that's so clear, yet he's going nowhere, doesn't that imply that hardcore conservatism isn't the voters' top priority?

(John is in the Eastern Time Zone.)

8:35: Ron Paul goes after Gingrich on government-sponsored enterprises. They're not private business. Gingrich, given a chance to defend himself, says some government-sponsored enterprises do a lot of good. Then Bachmann gets to pile on: Gingrich stands for Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, and "they need to be shut down."

8:45: Rick Perry seems to be trying to get in on that Ron Paul small-government magic. Perry's new thing: "Part-time Congress."

9:01: Megyn Kelly invites them to trash those terrible judges, the legislators in black robes. At one point, she insists that they all name their favorite Supreme Court Justice. Rick Perry says: "Alito, Thomas, or Roberts — pick one!" What about Scalia! Man! What happened? Scalia used to be the favorite. Next, it's Romney, and he recites: "Roberts, Thomas, Alito, and Scalia," then almost giggles, as if to say: I did it, I named all the conservative Justices!

9:02: Gingrich agrees about those 4 Justices, then chooses Scalia, because he's "the most intellectual." Hmmm, maybe that's why Scalia didn't rate with Perry.

9:03: Ron Paul says: "All of them are good and all of them are bad." And Bachmann puts Scalia at the top of her list, then adds the other 3: Roberts, Thomas, and Alito. Huntsman gives a little homily about the rule of law... then picks Roberts and Alito.

9:10: "A foreign policy based on 'pretty please,' you've got to be kidding." Romney mocks Obama's request that Iran return our drone.

9:21: "I'm very concerned about trying not to be zany," says Gingrich, in a reference to something Romney said the other day.

9:48: I'd like to see all of them with false eyelashes.

9:51: Gingrich would like to "eliminate abortions as a choice... defund Planned Parenthood and shift the money to pay for adoption services to give young women a choice of life rather than death." Why not eliminate the word "choice" then?

9:52: What happened to the Ronald Reagan commandment "Thou shalt not speak ill of another Republican?" That's the new question.

9:53: "There's an NFL player. His name doesn't come to mind, but he said if you don't get your tail kicked every now and then, you're not playing at a high enough level." Hey! That's the second time Perry dragged in football. Gratuitously. And ineptly reminding us of the way he can't remember stuff. And he wants to give "all you all" credit for letting him play at a high enough level. So he dragged in football again, quite unnecessarily, and got stuck not remembering something again.

9:54: Romney these attacks don't matter. Obama's the real opponent. Gingrich agrees: everyone on the stage is his "friend" and would be better than Barack Obama.

9:55: "I kind of like Huntsman. I think it's a shame he ruined himself by working for Obama," say I. Meade says, "I don't like him at all he's..." "Smarmy?" I volunteer. "Yeah, smarmy," says Meade. "He's a smarmdog."

"I meant coke! And fizz! Screw this auto cucumber!"

The Top 50 Fan Favorite entries in Damn You Autocorrect's first year.

I just made a nuisance of myself laughing way too much. Meade thinks most of them are fake. They're not that funny it you think they're fake. So, if you want to laugh, you've gotta believe. But if you do that, don't read them near a nonbeliever, because you will be very annoying.

Via Metafilter.

Class warfare, Madison-style.

Last night, around 6 p.m., Meade — who's driven cars for 40 years without ever getting into an accident — was driving our Audi TT in the right lane on University Avenue, going the speed limit. Suddenly, a Toyota Yaris cut directly in front of him, missing our front left fender by half a car length. About 150 feet later, the Yaris braked and turned into the Whole Foods parking lot. Meade turned there too and drove over to where the Yaris was parking. When driver — a 40-ish white female — emerged, Meade called out, politely: "Excuse me. Do you realize that you cut me off over on University Avenue?"

Her comeback, in an acid tone: "Honey, if I had your Audi, I would drive better."

Why mention the Audi? What was she thinking? I mean, it's hard for me to imagine saying anything but "I'm really sorry." And there's no way Meade could have driven better. I assume she meant he should have driven faster, above the speed limit, because she wanted to go faster, and she needed to be in the right lane so she could make her turn into Whole Foods. We were just annoyingly in the way. And annoyingly riding in an Audi sportscar. She's in a Yaris. We're in an Audi TT, so fuck us. Honey.

IN THE COMMENTS:  edutcher said:

She was trying to bluff her way out of the fact she was at fault. 

Not so much bluff as distract. Like she's saying: You think I did something wrong. You did something wrong. You own something expensive. Not shame on me. I am the 99%. Shame on you!

Adorable rickshaw — a terrible or an awesome gift?

According to Jessica Grose at XXfactor ("What women really think"), this is a terrible gift — "completely insane" — because "even if your wealth is at Bloombergian levels, no one in the universe needs a $2,200 limited-edition rickshaw from Anthropologie.... Populist outrage is way too easy to inspire with such fripperies..."

Populist outrage? Fripperies? If that's supposed to be economic analysis... hello! Consumer spending drives the economy. The country needs people to buy things. What's with the Puritanical whining about having fun tooling around town in a colorful rickshaw? And the price is $2,200? Has Grose noticed the prices of normal bikes? This thing is a bargain! In fact, if you click through to Anthropologie, you'll see "This product is no longer available." I'm not surprised. It's totally adorable. I had fantasies of riding around Madison in the passenger seat of this thing. Why, it would be the perfect gift for Meade!

What women really think... You tell me: Who's speaking The Mind of the Woman: me or Jessica Grose?

What sort of place should you want to live in as you get old? A place with "non-Western ideas about healing"?

From a discussion with an architect (Wid Chapman) and a gerontologist (Jeffrey P. Rosenfeld):

Along with grab bars (which are frequently mentioned in your book, though none is visible in the pictures), what makes a house suitable for aging?...

Mr. Rosenfeld: When you mentioned grab bars, it reminded me that most of the homes in the book speak to a Western medical aesthetic, but a few support non-Western ideas about healing. There’s one in particular, Bioscleave, in East Hampton, N.Y., that builds on the idea of reversible destiny: that the home can challenge and stimulate inhabitants to keep them youthful. Everything about that home is colorful. It’s angular. It’s full of intentional surprises and quirks.

I’m glad you mentioned Bioscleave. I wanted to ask about the sloping, textured floors the architects designed to make walking more of an “adventure.” Isn’t that the kind of adventure that can lead to a broken hip?

Mr. Rosenfeld: The house is occupied by a person who lives there part time. A mature person. I haven’t dared ask her age, but I can say that neither of her hips is broken.

Colorful, angular... stimulate and challenge... this made me think of crib toys. They're thinking of old people like babies. I found that repulsive. We've thought a lot about moving to a simpler house, which would also be the house where we'd grow old — hopefully, extremely old. (I see that in the discussion, the gerontologist says he's "beginning to think about how [he and his wife are] going to deal with our inevitable aging." But getting old is not inevitable. It's preferable!)

What Meade and I have talked about wanting is a completely uncluttered, cleanly modern place. I don't look to the walls and floors for stimulation. I want a place that doesn't distract and bother me while I'm doing what I want to do, like read or talk to somebody.

Bioscleave sounds utterly insulting, like old people are babies. Then I looked it up. My lord! It's like old people are hamsters!



Ridiculous! Hilarious! And who cleans that place? Especially of all the blood.

I'm looking at that word "Bioscleave." "Bios" is the Greek word for life in the sense of one's life, course or way of living, lifetime. "Cleave" is a word that famously has 2 meanings. It's an auto-antonym. It can refer to clinging — let's say, to life — or to separation — which, in the case of life, would refer to death.

Take a look at that Bioscleave again. If they try to take you there... get out. I don't want your Hamster Habitat of Death. And I'm not charmed by your burbling about "non-Western" ideas. I don't want your Bioscleave just like I don't want your acupuncture. I want an ultra-Western ultra-modern house to go with my ultra-Western modern medicine.

"I'd Rather Live By The Side Of The Road."

This morning at Meadhouse, Meade turns on Lulu Belle & Scotty. What led you there? I wanted to know. Were you reading about Occupy Wall Street and contemplating alternatives?

"Interesting, smart liberals are called... conservatives."

Said Meade, just now, as I was reading the poll results and the comments on this post on Herman Cain and expressing my puzzlement about how so few of my readers are liberals. I said: "Why do conservatives find what I'm saying so yummy? I would have thought interesting, smart liberals would love this."

The University of Wisconsin Marching Band practices "I Got Plenty o' Nuttin'" in the rain...

... and Meade and I watch from the car. We proceed around town and there's some miscellaneous conversation about ant heads and graveyards and so forth. This is just a late-night trifle for anybody who wants to hang out with us for 14 minutes or less.

Yesterday, we drove past the new "Occupy Madison" encampment...

... which you can see in the first 10 seconds of this 14-minute video...



... and you can hang out with Meade and me for the rest of the drive if you want. You'll see some more of Madison and the University of Wisconsin and eavesdrop on us. It's not all politics, I assure you, at 2 p.m. on a beautiful Saturday.

ADDED: A couple extra videos for reference. Here's the awesome song "United We Stand" by Brotherhood of Man:



And here's one of the wonderful "I'm a Pepper" commercials from the 1970s:



Of course, you must know the Herman Cain "smoking man" commercial, and here's the take-off by the Huntsman daughters.

AND: 2 more references. Donald Rumsfeld:



And Little Edie:

Cattails.

This evening on Lake Wingra.

"Plenty of people on the right and on the left are not comfortable with a free marketplace of ideas."

Says Meade, after I read him a blog post that calls me "obtuse" for writing about how 2 men were talking past each other about affirmative action. This blogger simply agreed with the man who stated the crisply clear position that race discrimination is always wrong and bad, and since I did not — I was more interested in the way the 2 men could not interact — I was obtuse.

My response to Meade was: "A lot of people don't really like shopping."

A hilarious and eerie interaction with iPhone 4s.

After having some trouble understanding me, the new iPhone has gotten quite good at hearing my speech. I said, "Play 'Poses' by Rufus Wainwright" and it did. I love that song, but with Meade listening too, I was afraid it was dreary, so I told the phone "Stop playing that song." It complied.

Meade said, "There's a real person listening on the other end." So I asked the phone, "Are you a real person listening to me, like maybe in India?"

Here's the answer I got, my next statement, and the response:



Freaky!

Memorial Union Terrace, the night before the big game.

"Most vegetarians look so much like the food they eat that they can be classified as cannibals."

Finley Peter Dunne, quoted in "From Dawn to Decadence: 500 Years of Western Cultural Life 1500 to the Present."

Meade just read that out loud to me, and it caused me to do a search for the word "cannibals" in the book I had open in Kindle, Kurt Vonnegut's "Welcome to the Monkeyhouse." I was delighted to find that old Kurt had used the word in his delightful collection of stories, and the line is even one that other readers — 3 to be precise — have highlighted. (Kindle lets you see other people's highlighting.)

But he faced the problem that complicates the lives of cannibals — namely: that a single victim cannot be used over and over.

The "he" is not, of course, a cannibal, just a man with a problem that cannibals have, the need to look for more victims.

As for that Finley Peter Dunne quote, Meade said it puts a different spin on the old saying "You are what you eat." If you are what you eat, you're a cannibal. That seems like something that's been said before, but the closest I get, Googling that, is somebody at Yahoo Answers asking "If you are what you eat then are Cannibals the only True Humans?" Before answering that yourself — assuming you feel so inclined — please read Michel de Montaigne's "On Cannibals":

I am not so concerned that we should remark on the barbaric horror of such a deed, but that, while we quite rightly judge their faults, we are blind to our own. I think it is more barbaric to eat a man alive than to eat him dead, to tear apart through torture and pain a living body which can still feel, or to burn it alive by bits, to let it be gnawed and chewed by dogs or pigs (as we have no only read, but seen, in recent times, not against old enemies but among neighbors and fellow-citizens, and--what is worse--under the pretext of piety and religion.  Better to roast and eat him after he is dead.

Recent times... in 1580.

What should the Republicans do about their problem with boos?

That was ugly! TPM leans heavily on the GOP for the sounds that emanate from various audiences. There was the booing of the soldier and...

... On Sept. 7, the biggest applause line of the night went to the then-234 executions that had occurred during Rick Perry’s time as governor. At the CNN/Tea Party Express debate a few days later, members of the audience voiced their support for letting an uninsured man die.

Settling in to write this post, I said out loud: "The Republicans need to get their audiences under control." And Meade said:

"No, they don't. They're the party of free speech. Anyone can come in and say what they want to say. It's just like your blog. You're not responsible for what people say in the comments."

There's no real way to control the audience, other than to strictly limit who gets in, which will look repressive and cowardly. And who knows who is booing or applauding in this way that's harmful to the Republican cause? It could just as well be somebody who hates the GOP, trying to generate bad press and distract attention from what the candidates actually say.

The booing in that clip above comes from one very loud guy. Maybe he could be identified. I'd like to know whether he's on the Republican side or he's a dirty trickster. Am I being repressive to suggest that audience members at the next debate ought to pay attention in the future and look when somebody boos or applauds in this way that is useful to Republican opponents?

I don't think so. I think it's similar to going to a protest and photographing people with offensive signs. Let's say someone who hates the Tea Party is thinking of going to a Tea Party rally and holding up a blatantly racist sign in the hope of stoking the belief that the Tea Party is a bunch of racists. If this prankster realizes he will be photographed (or confronted by the people he's hoping to hurt), he probably won't do it.  

A separate matter is whether the candidates should overlook the inappropriate sounds in the room. (This assumes they hear the sounds and can immediately correctly interpret whether it's an approval or disapproval sound and what it refers to.) The candidates have to be smart about what will be used against them and, if they are sharp, they could find opportunities to leverage the moment for their own benefit with a good spontaneous remark. But I don't think that every jerk in the audience, like that guy last night, ought to have the power to command attention in place of whatever response the candidate had brewing in his head as he listened to the question. There lies chaos.

ADDED: I have listened to the video several times, and I stand by my perception that only one person audibly yells "boo." I hear a loud "boo," then a difficult to decipher noise — which could be an ugh response to the booer — and then a little more of a boo, which sounds like the original guy.

"Working in the Coal Mine."

At Meadhouse this morning, we're talking about the song "Working In The Coal Mine," not because of the abysmal jobs situation these days, but because... well, because there was a little too much milk in my coffee. (This stream of consciousness has nothing to do with the suffering of unemployment and working in coal mines, so please forgive me.)

Meade decided to make me a double-shot, and I — helpful in my usual abstracted way — started playing "Double Shot of My Baby's Love" (by the Swingin' Medallions) — a song about a woman who "loved [her man] so hard" that he woke up with... "the worst hangover [he] ever had."

That got me talking about the frat rock cassette recording that I bought when my kids were very young. It had "Double Shot" along with stuff like "Hang On Sloopy" and "Louie Louie." It was one of a series of tapes that I bought to play in the car after I realized that rock and roll oldies were good children's music. (Well, not "Double Shot.") I first had this realization back in the 1980s when, for some reason — maybe a toddler said "ya ya" — I started singing "Sitting in Ya Ya Waiting for my La La." Baby talk!

"Who sang that?" I ask, playing it on YouTube. Meade says "Sam Cooke." No! It's Lee Dorsey! Do you know any other Lee Dorsey songs? There's only one other that you might remember. It's this. "Working in the Coal Mine." (Not to be confused with this Sam Cooke song, which is, frankly, much better... as a recording. I will not compare the degree of workplace suffering described in the 2 songs.)

But check out these 2 other recordings of "Working in the Coal Mine" — this and this. I can't picture any of those people actually working in a coal mine, but in a pinch, if I had to say, I'd pick The Judds.

Have you had enough coffee this morning? I have.

ADDED: "Get your ya-yas out." Remember when Barack Obama said it? Back in June 2008, when he was thanking his campaign workers for "submerging their egos." The "Ya-yas" remark comes at 10:45. But start here:



Based on that part — before the "ya-yas," I think he didn't expect to win in Iowa. "If I'd lost Iowa, it would have been okay." But: "Because we won, we now have no choice." It seems as though he'd intended to make his mark, then reemerge in 2012 or 2016 as the frontrunner. But he won. It came too soon. Yet he had to plunge forward. It was all a crazy miscalculation. He just didn't expect to be that loved in Iowa.

And now, it's 2011, primary time once again, and our nation turns its lonely eyes to you, Iowa, ya ya ya.

Songs Meade is driving me crazy playing on YouTube this morning.

"Young Girl," "Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes," "Everlasting Love," "Lady Willpower," "Build Me Up Buttercup," that "Star Trek" hippies song, "Count Me In," "This Magic Moment"...

It all started with "Everlasting Love" yesterday, which he's found endless versions of...

Dialogue:

"You should go into Pandora and make an "Everlasting Love" channel..."

"Okay."

"Midnight Confession," "Temptation Eyes," "Hitchin' a Ride," "Come and Get It," "Ferry 'Cross the Mersey," "I Know I'll Never Find Another You"...

Help!

ADDED: Confluence: The UW Marching Band is practicing. We've got the windows open. It's 68° and sunny and the sound, from 1 mile away, becomes part of the Meadehouse musicscape.