[Customer service] works by the gradual buildup of sympathy through failed attempted solutions. If person X has told you to try something and it doesn't work, person X feels slightly sorry for you. X is slightly responsible for the problem now, having used up some of your time. Person Y, however, is considerably less moved that you tried following her colleague X's advice to no avail-even if it is the same advice that she herself would have given you had she been party to that earlier conversation. That's beside the point. The point is that she wasn't the one who gave you that advice. So she is not responsible for your wasted time.
[The same customer service representative miraculously] returns. "I can make an exception for you," she says.
It occurs to me that an "exception" is what programmers call it when software breaks.
["Impersonal friends" are those we are drawn to for their type, which makes them more or less fungible, in contrast to specific individuals we care about which can't be swapped. The difference develops through shared history.]
I've seen it happen between friends: "Once again, you've neglected to do what you've promised." "Oh, there you go right in with that tone of yours!" "Great, let's just dodge the issue and talk about my tone instead! You're so defensive!" "You're the one being defensive! This is just like the time you x!" "For the millionth time, I did not even remotely x! You're the one who …" And on and on. […] each remark after the first is only about the previous remark. Th "context, a kind of "Markov chain" of riposte, meta-riposte, meta-meta-riposte. If we can be induced to sink to this level, of course the Turing test can be passed.
I imagine an ancient Egyptian woman, say, who catches a man looking tenderly into her eyes, up at the far extreme of her body near her useless, good-for-nothing brains, and chastises him, hand at her chest. Hey. I'm down here.
[If every act is the means to an end, "eudaimonia" (εuδauovia in Greek) describes the ultimate end of "well-being of spirit". Closer to "flourishing" than "happiness" (which could be through consuming a destructive vice) or "success" (which could be cutthroat if you win, scam, or kill). It's not a feeling: you either have it or not, regardless of how you feel. Related is "arete" which refers to "excellence" and "fulfillment of purpose":] Flowers are meant to bloom; knives are meant to cut; what are we meant to do?
I find it so tragic that when an infant cries, the parents sometimes have no idea what might be the cause of the cry—hunger? thirst? Dirty diaper? fatigue? If only the child could tell them! But no, they must simply run down the list—here's some food, no, still crying, here's a new diaper, no, still crying, here's your blanket, maybe you need a nap, no, still crying … But it occurs to me that this also describes my relationship to myself. When I am in a foul mood, I think, "How's my work going? How's my social life? How's my love life? How much water have I had today? How much coffee have I had today? How well have I been eating? How much have I been exercising? How have I been sleeping? How's the weather?" And sometimes that's the best I can do: eat some fruit, jog around the neighborhood, take a nap, and on and on till the mood changes and I think, "Oh, I guess that was it." I'm not much better than the infant.
In a Canadian study, a woman gave her number to male hikers either just before they reached the Capilano Suspension Bridge or in the middle of the bridge. Those who met her on the bridge were twice as likely to call and ask for a date.
[They explained to me that although things would get a lot better after the body dies, suicide is decisively against the rules.]
