#irrational decisions

[hale-my-nathan]

Trump Weird News - Deranged Trump Syndrome 02 - UN

[neurosciencenews]

Mental Shortcuts, Not Emotion, Guide Irrational Decisions

One theory is that framing is caused by emotion, perhaps because the prospect of accepting a guaranteed win feels good while accepting a guaranteed loss feels scary or bad. Another theory is that the Framing Effect results from a decision-making shortcut. It may be that a strategy of accepting sure gains and avoiding sure losses tends to work well, and adopting this blanket strategy saves us from having to spend time and mental effort fully reasoning through every single decision and all of its possibilities.

The research is in Journal of Neuroscience. (full access paywall)

[newluddite]

Irrational Decisions illustrated

Today driving to work I had to merge into a lane to pass into a tunnel.  Happens every day.  Usually quite uninspiring.

Today in my mirror I saw two motorcycles once I got in the lane.  One was a Harley with a big windscreen and “ape hanger” bars.  The other a 4 pot Japanese street racer.  The contrast could not have been greater.

I had motorcycles years ago.  My license is still valid.  I have not ridden one in years as well lets just say I am lucky not to be dead.  I am still interested though.

There are many flavors of motorcycles.  There are classics, nakeds, cafe racers, sport bikes, cruisers, and of course Harleys.  Those are unique, expensive and actually very old technology.  The choice to buy one type over any other is not a rational process. 

If you want power, speed and reliability, Harley is not going to give that to you. They tried a few years ago and got Porsche to help design a V twin that could compete with sport bikes.  It put out about 100 hp which is over double the normal Harley motor.  I remember it lost a race on TV against a 30 year old two stroke 3 pot Japanese bike.  It lost even though the Factory sent a pit crew to assure it was tuned optimally.  They discontinued it last year as the usual customer base did not like it.

The highest power stock Japanese bike is north of 200 hp.  Hell even Italian bikes are good enough to win races. V twins too. I like Italian Bikes.

But buying a Harley is not about those things.  It is about attitude. It is about noise and the feeling while riding it.  Put a few custom parts on it or even chop it and you are telling the world what side you are on or want to appear to be on.  I remember a clutch of riders were pulled over by the highway to be checked out by police.  Turned out they were Dentists on a vacation.

It is a similar esthetic to people who love to turn tires into smoke in cars with over 700 hp.  Or the type that build fancy hot rods.  Noise and attitude are the goals not a reliable or even high performance machine.

My foundation Philosophy is that there are no rational decisions.  Dig down deep enough and every decision is somebody saying “I want”, and they cannot describe why they want.

So here in my mirror were two opposites going down the same road.

[nalgenewithanipple]

I swear why did I ever graduate. I want to go back to highschool and get involved with the shows again. I miss it so much I can't stand it. Well done vocal ensemble. Well done.

[halfeverything-jake-blog]

Irrational Decisions || Jake Puckerman

TAGGED: Jake Puckerman

LOCATION: Puckerman residence

NOTES: Between Marley's confession and texts with Ryder, Jake funnels his frustration into making a rather poor decision.

TRIGGER(S): n/a

Jake didn't have time to worry about whether the crack he heard when he threw his phone was the wall or the device itself. His blood was boiling, thoughts spiraling quickly out of control as Marley's words from earlier that day and Ryder's texts played over in his mind.

Ryder had kissed Marley.

Kissed her. His so-called best bro had kissed his girlfriend.

And Marley has said she let him.

Jake had thought Valentine's Day was a joke before, but now? It just felt so much more cruel. And pointless.

Had Ryder planned this? he wondered. A deep-seated insecurity nagged at him as though to confirm that yes, Ryder planned this whole thing all along. The romantic gestures, the over-the-top performance, the gifts, all the little suggestions he'd whispered in his ear? All part of some plot to undermine his relationship with Marley, and just when things between them were starting to get better. The very notion brought back uneasy memories involving seeing the two kiss backstage during Grease and fists flying in the choir room. 

His hands seemed to itch as they curled into fists. What he wouldn't give...

If Ryder had been standing in his bedroom right then, Jake would've had him on the ground. He knew that much. But his anger ended up directed at the wall with a sound of frustration to match, leaving a dent in its wake. He turned away from the wall and started to pace, shaking out his hands as the feeling continued to course through him.

She doesn't really love you, his mind taunted him. She let him kiss her! What does that say about the two of you?

His rage took a bit of an explosive turn again as he kicked his dresser, knocking over a lamp in the process, which popped and sparked as the bulb shattered upon contact with the ground. His hands raked over his head as he moved away, breathing harshly.

It's your fault. You trusted him. You trusted her. Where does trust get you? Hurt. Thrown away like garbage. Even she realizes that he's the logical choice. Golden boy on the football team. And what are you? Some punk who can dance. A flirt. Can't even figure out how to fucking do Valentine's Day right without help.

The more his thoughts cycled, the more his rage boiled, and the more his room started to reflect this - sheets pulled off the bed and left in a crumpled heap on the floor, posters torn off the wall, the cufflinks Marley had gifted him tossed across the room. It seemed like all he could do to funnel his anger was break things, destroy them. Kind of symbolic for how he felt right then, as cliched and stupid as that sounded.

He has to pay. He has to fucking pay. He can't get away with pulling shitty stunts like this.

Still breathing heavily, Jake made his way back across the room to turn on his laptop, the moment becoming a bit of a haze for him as he opened up an internet browser and typed in a website to pull up. OkCupid or some dumb shit. Whatever dating site Ryder had been talking his ear off about the previous week. He couldn't really understand the logic behind it or how it was going to make him feel better in the long run, but rage didn't leave room for reason. 

Rage instead allowed him to make quite possibly the shittiest dating profile known to man.

It was like the information flowed from his fingertips, one things flowing seamlessly into the next. Name. Age. Location. Interests. Little things piecing together until a finished product was staring right back at him.

Katie.

Who the fuck was Katie? Jake didn't know yet, but he'd already decided that Ryder would know. And not just that he would know about 'Katie' existing somewhere out there in cyberspace. He would also know what it was like to get fucked over, over a girl no less. Soon enough, he would know the exact rage and inner turmoil Jake was having to go through right then. And it was with that impulse and lust for vengeance that he looked up Ryder's profile and sent his friend request as 'Katie'.

No one messes with Jake Puckerman and gets away with it, he thought to himself, jaw clenched tight as he sat back and waited.

[dangerjohnes]

tbh if a game doesn't bring up ethics in gaming journalism then don't complain that the developer is a gator.

[stuckinthecosmos]

Good thing Carthage is 7 hours away..

[timidplansofouryouth]

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