Paradox of choice

I might have let loose my thinking on this topic in an erstwhile essay or rant but I cannot remember as always. Thence we are presented with a fresh(er) perspective of what yours truly means by this title.

Growing up in India the paucity of choice was apparent. If we had to travel we were really left with one option in the form of state run trains. They were amidst the dirty laundry of vehicles the most clean shirt or relevant to topic the most logical option. Trains went to more places than other forms of transport and were affordable. Hygiene and crowds were expected to be a problem but did not fare in the calculus absent - choices.

Same went for basic school supplies like shoes (we had uniforms and thus needed black leather uppers) and bags to carry our supplies. Something akin to army BDU we had these khaki'ish colored canvas book carriers that eventually got holes in them; shoes that lasted a year till the feet grew in size and pain. Uncomfortable but they got the job done. Again no option to ask for fancy pockets in bag or style of footwear.

Food came in the form of what was local to the region and we had no idea that people across the planet ate their own version of local which could look and smell different than ours. So at times it was more to meet caloric interest than any particular fondness for cuisines that we consumed and went about. The only time this was not true was during college admissions. In America they call it Affirmative Action but back many decades ago India decided to call it Reservation system and allow people who identified as belonging to over 40 or so tribes, castes (yes that class system based grouping) to be able to apply and secure seats in competitive colleges. That was choice of selecting oneself to belong to a class that was disenfranchised in some way.

Fast forward to life in America. And what I call USO - united states of options!

From plentifully stocked grocery aisles offering at least 50 types of cereal, chips, milk, juice and any other condiment or snack you can imagine this land of plenty can be a doozy. People spend hours staring at the choice be it brick and mortar with an actual metal cart the size of a small car or virtually on a screen in to the wee hours of the night. Oh what do I want and can I get that in XXL or XXS in taupe or mauve or chartreuse. Sometimes that also leads to indecision. Analysis paralysis.

Then if the customer chose to take their chariot and drive to an establishment that sells say jeans he needs to park his wheels outside the premises. There is also choices on how or where to park. Used to be where for first time I saw dedicated space with a blue and white wheelchair icon and realized that a former Prez had passed some laws about disability that led to ramps at restaurants and swimming pools and fancy swing out chairs and the blue placards.

Without admitting bias they then introduced spots for pregnant women to bring their appliance closest to store so as to seemingly avoid a chance of their water breaking while they were 500 yards away from getting their melons or bread or lip balm. Then some spots went to employee recognition and best in class could park closest.

Then came veterans class who were being wooed with spots closer to the store. What? Now I park in the next county over at a playground and simply walk to pick up my milk since I belong to neither of the highlighted class.

Past decade saw a further acceleration of classification and variety entertainment. In our great land we now also offer choices of gender. You are born a male but really think you should have been the opposite version. Hey no problem we can fix that. We also then proceed to announce that as some sort of woke ritual on our email signatures and provide in form of oddly labeled restroom and other infrastructure. I guess if you are the minority all this is great news because you feel more comfortable just like those that are cisgender. I know for those that think this is an odd word - believe me I had to understand it to use it here.

But then there is politics and the case for going too far. There is legislation being considered to allow for transgender surgeries for convicts in jail. Really!

But What If We're Wrong?

I attempted to read this book by author Chuck Klosterman backward to forward but it started hurting my brain so I decided to stop and do it like any other publication in the English language. Start from page 1 and move to the right. Witty, caustic and thought provoking this is a book you want to read if you believe that the status quo might, just might be wrong. At times bordering on being contrarian about most things around us it tries to zero in on the notion of what makes anything believable and certain in our minds. The fact that there is a fact itself is ironic. Something analogous to the idea that you can never predict the future because there is no future. Many books and movies have tried to play on this concept - best that I recollect (I think I am) was 'The Truman Show'. This book by Klosterman attempts to provoke the reader to at least contemplate that what they think they know may be wrong. He uses examples like concept of gravity, and how it ...

You are important to us

Followed by piano music. Followed by 'we are experiencing heavier than usual call volume'. Sounds macabre like bleeding during menstruation or after a ghastly attack with a weapon on a hemophiliac. Sorry Mrs. Johnson but it appears little Gertrude here has been bleeding heavier than usual what with her night time activities competing with the woodchucks in your neighborhood. Some services even go as far as to pick a random day to say - 'if you were to call us during the Chinese lunar month when the moon is axiomatically hugging the polar star with Jupiter intravenous when call volume is light'. Well I will be damned. I thought I had checked with my astrologer before I placed this well focused call but I guess this is what you get for listening to a quack. Umph! I am not sure which marketing genius came up with this personal touch concept of informing the caller that you are really a jackass for actually calling the customer serv...

Of Jims and Johns

Here is another essay on the subject of first names. As in birth names. Or names provided to an offspring at birth. While the developed world tends to shy away from the exotic like Refrigerator or Coca Cola for their new production there is a plethora of Jims and Johns and Bobs or Robs. Speaking of which I do not think there is a categoric decision point at the time of birth if a child will be hereafter called as Bob. I mean have not yet met a toddler called Bob or Rob for that matter. At some point though the parental instinct to mouth out multiple syllables runs out and they switch from calling the crawler Robert to simply Robbie to Rob. Now speaking of - it is strange that the name sounds like something you would not want Rob to do - i.e. Rob anyone. Then why call someone that? After all Rob Peter to Pay Paul is not exactly a maxim to live a young life? Is it? Perhaps Peter or Paul might want to have a say in it? Then there is this matter of going to the John. Why degrad...

Brown Motion

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