Malcolm Gladwell writes:

Jettas are safe because they make their drivers feel unsafe. S.U.V.s are unsafe because they make their drivers feel safe. That feeling of safety isn’t the solution; it’s the problem.

I am reminded of various more politicized debates.

I drive a Camry, by the way, and my brother drives a Jetta. (See the table in the middle of Gladwell’s article.)

I have occasionally ranted that the war on wetbacks is wrecking the American spirit of casual charity. The drug war, too, is doing its bit:

The three men decided to rescue the animal so that it wouldn’t be hit by another car, and take it to a 24-hour veterinary clinic in Longmont.

. . . .

[Jason Lee] Laird, 21, and Zachariah Deming, 19, were ticketed for possession of marijuana and drug paraphernalia.

The injured mountain lion, which wildlife officers guessed was four or five months old, had to be euthanized.

Cited by Libby Spencer (Last One Speaks), cited in turn by Pete Guither (Drug WarRant), whom I visited because Jim Henley (Unqualified Offerings) recently blogrolled him.

Later: Could be worse; I did not notice on first reading that they were “ticketed” rather than “arrested”.

Seeing a twist of yellow ribbon stuck sidewise on the tails of many cars, it struck me that the present conflict would be better symbolized if the loose ends of the ribbon were joined.

We learn something every day. The old republic of Venice took indirection to an amazing height:

New regulations for the elections of the doge introduced in 1268 remained in force until the end of the republic in 1797. Their object was to minimize as far as possible the influence of individual great families, and this was effected by a complex elective machinery. Thirty members of the Great Council, chosen by lot, were reduced by lot to nine; the nine chose forty and the forty were reduced by lot to twelve, who chose twenty-five. The twenty-five were reduced by lot to nine and the nine elected forty-five. Then the forty-five were once more reduced by lot to eleven, and the eleven finally chose the forty-one who actually elected the doge.

You have to wonder: why so many tiers? Why those specific numbers?

How did the medical marijuana case now before the Supreme Court come to be called Ashcroft v Raich? I gather that it began life as a criminal case, which would normally be titled US v Raich. Or it could be a civil suit seeking an injunction against certain practices of the DoJ, in which case it might be titled Raich v Ashcroft.

Are appeals often renamed? Is there a rule?

Dec.23: Todd Larason comes through, citing the Raich camp’s website:

It began as Raich et al. vs Ashcroft et al. — Raich is suing Ashcroft, seeking an injuction preventing Ashcroft & others from doing certain things; it isn’t an appeal of a criminal case as US v. Lopez was.

Ashcroft filed the petition for certiorari, so at the supreme court level he’s the petitioner, and it turned from Raich v. Ashcroft to Ashcroft v. Raich.

[Upton] Sinclair wrote The Jungle [1906] to ignite a socialist movement on behalf of America’s workers. He did not even pretend to have actually witnessed or verified the horrendous conditions he ascribed to Chicago packing houses. Instead, he relied heavily on both his own imagination and hearsay. Indeed, a congressional investigation at the time found little substance in Sinclair’s allegations.

Ernest C. Pasour: We Can Do Better than Government Inspection of Meat (The Freeman, May 1998)

Independent Institute: History of Federal [drug] Regulation (cited by Sunni Maravillosa)