Chatological Humor (UPDATED 5.25.07)

aka Tuesdays With Moron

Daily Updates: 5.23.07 | 5.24.07 | 5.25.07

Gene Weingarten's humor column, Below the Beltway, appears every Sunday in The Washington Post magazine. It is syndicated nationally by the Washington Post Writers Group.

At one time or another, Below the Beltway has managed to offend persons of both sexes as well as individuals belonging to every religious, ethnic, regional, political and socioeconomic group. If you know of a group we have missed, please write in and the situation will be promptly rectified. "Rectified" is a funny word.

On Tuesdays at noon, Gene is online to take your questions and abuse. He will chat about anything. Although this chat is updated regularly throughout the week, it is not and never will be a "blog," even though many persons keep making that mistake. One reason for the confusion is the Underpants Paradox: Blogs, like underpants, contain "threads," whereas this chat contains no "threads" but, like underpants, does sometimes get funky and inexcusable.

This Week's Poll

Important, secret note to readers: The management of The Washington Post apparently does not know this chat exists, or it would have been shut down long ago. Please do not tell them. Thank you.

Weingarten is also the author of "The Hypochondriac's Guide to Life. And Death" and co-author of "I'm with Stupid," with feminist scholar Gina Barreca.

New to Chatological Humor? Read the FAQ.

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Gene Weingarten: Good afternoon.

Have you ever noticed that there are commercial products out there that endure, over time, despite being obviously inferior and stupid? Two come to mind, and I seek your help in explaining their continued popularity.

1. Men's jeans with button-up flies.

2. Toothpaste that oozes out from twin nozzles, in two streams -- one white, one green.

As to 1, what is the logic behind a pair of pants that takes an extra 10 seconds to unbutton, an extra 15 seconds to button, pants you sometimes tend to only partially button at home because of the hassle, which can be embarrassing when visitors arrive? It's not even some perverse, pirate-influenced fashion statement -- these buttons are hidden. They close the fly less completely and less efficiently than a zipper, which is essentially a perfect machine. So why would anyone buy these pants? Yet people do, by the millions.

As to 2, has anyone ever managed to figure out how to make the two streams come out at equal intensity? Most often you get one product or the other, but not both, meaning you are either cleaning and fluoridating your teeth or freshening your breath, but not both. Or, to get both to come out, you need to squeeze out an amount the size of a hamster?

Neither of these products is sold more cheaply than competing good products.

I'd appreciate enlightenment here, as well as nominations for other WTF? products. I'd add chunky peanut butter to the list, because I cannot imagine an actual human preferring that product, but that's not really what I'm getting at here. This is not a matter of taste; it is a matter of the obvious mechanical inferiority of a product that still sells.

Oh, and please, no tedious debates between Mac users and PC users, or harangues about Microsoft or paeans to Linux. We know, and you are all completely correct.

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I just got an e-mail from my good friend Christine Lavin, the folksinger, with a link to a parody song she recorded for the first time last night. Made me laugh through the whole one minute. It's by Christ ine Lavin and Brian Bauers, who is the lead singer of a group called The WMDs. He's singing, she's playing. It's apparently an adaptation of something by Mr. Whitekeys and The Fabulous Spamtones, of Spenard, Alaska.

Alert: Do not play aloud if you are working for someone who will fire you for disrespecting the president of the United States. You know who you are, you poor slobs.

Persons daft and persons sane,

Persons weak and thin of soul,

Persons with a feeble brain

Have writ to criticize the Poll:

"Poems do not suit my fancy."

"Poems are a bore, I think.

"Poems are all frilled and Nancy"

"Poems suck and blow and stink."

Poem haters, quell your rages

Watch TV or fill your tummies --

For the sake of all us sages,

We NEED all you dopes and dummies.

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The comic pick of the Week is today's Sally Forth. It's quite funny, though the whole Ted-gets-laid-off storyline has been unnerving, particularly last week when it appeared he left with a stolen computer, or computer chip. Never explained. How weird was that?

First runner up is Thursday's Speed Bump. Honorable: Sunday's Frazz, today's Pearls, today's Speed Bump.

Okay, let's go.

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Tilap, IA: I am very amused by this picture of your friend Mr. Sporns.

Gene Weingarten: This is a man who loves his frozen fish.

Gene Weingarten: This is in reference to my column Sunday. Liz, can you link to it?

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washingtonpost.com: Read It and Lacrimate, ( Post Magazine, May 20)

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Button fly, here why: If you remember the movie "Something about Mary" there was one bathroom scence that total explained at least one reason for the button fly

Gene Weingarten: Yeah? How often has that happened to you, Clumsy Carp?

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Personal Space, Invaded: Let me first preface this by stating that most men are polite about women's personal space in public transportation situations. That said, I've been bothered by the actions of a fair amount of men for years and need some clarification. Why do these men insist on sitting with legs splayed out at a wide obtuse angle? When they are sitting by themselves, it is just a little odd (do the boys need air?), but my issue is that they insist on doing so when someone is next to them in the seat (subway, train, plane, movie theater, etc.). My guess is that they would never do this if another man was in the seat next to them because then they would be uncomfortably close or touching. Yet they do so to me (a woman), and I would assume other women, all the time. So here is my question, is this habit a pervy little pleasure in which to partake out of sight of their own women or do they just feel entitled to a woman's space, thinking women are smaller and don't need their entire subway or plane seat so I can take up more room? Seriously, would they want another man sitting that invasively next to the women in their lives? A corollary issue is that some men take up the entire shared planeseat armrest in such a way that it blocks the woman from putting her arm along her side without touching said armrest hogger's arm, causing the woman to move her arm forward, allowing armrest hogger's arm unfettered access to her side and what essentially amounts to copping a feel. These incidents occur alarmingly often and they have made work travel an extreme annoyance for me.

Gene Weingarten: In general, my attitude on genders is that I am awed and mystified by women and embarrassed and mystified by men. I believe I have written about the leg splay before. It seems to be particularly common among young men. Can't explain it.

I have seen this leg splay used when the Metro car was full, people were standing, and the splay was so pronounced that it took up an entire bench. Often the splayer is not asked to unsplay because he is a large young person and because the act itself is so hostile people presume he is potentially nasty and violent. And maybe that's the idea. Or maybe he is, as you subliminally suggested, "obtuse."

I am less judgmental about guys in airplanes for the simple reason that airplanes suck. Coach seating is appalling, stretching everyone's capacity for annoyance of physical discomfort. It turns sane, dececent people against each other. I actually find myself silently cursing large people -- not just fat people, but even linebacker types -- because they make my ride more uncomfortable.

The situation is so appalling that if airlines are unwilling to provide more space, I actually think they should restrict people MORE. The fullreclining of a seat should be disallowed if there is someone behind you.

My point is, everyone has elbow-room problems. But I'm not quite following your argument. He takes the armrest, you withdraw your arm, how is he them copping a feel?

Gene Weingarten: Do women believe that every incidental touch by a stranger is, essentially, copping a feel? This is a serious question, not a snide one. If your arm gets brushed against, or your hand touched, by a guy, is it your first assumption that this is creepy?

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Washington, D.C.:"Gene Weingarten: There are people who put A-1 Sauce on a steak, and people who do not.

There are people who drink whiskey sours and people who take fine bourbon, straight up.

There are people who salt their food before they taste it, and people who do not.

There are children, and there are sophisticated adults."

First of all, allow me to congratulate you. If I didn't know what you were defending, I would have thought you had a reasonable argument. But you used those statements to argue for the superiority of plain hot dogs and milk chocolate, which collectively forms a false choice that would make the Bushies proud. Yes, Gene, either you prefer a plain hot dog or you're a child. Also, if you like curry, then you don't support the troops.

Clearly, you're a picky eater, which is a tragically imprecise term because it allows provincial brats -- for example, you -- to convince themselves that they're connoisseurs. You're like the guy who says "I'm a lover, not a fighter" to hide the fact that he's just a coward. Similarly, there is a HUGE difference between "epicurean discernment" and "hidebound petulance" despite the fact that some use the word "picky" to describe both. Tom Sietsema is discerning and sophisticated; you, my friend, are the middle-aged equivalent of a five-year-old who demands Froot Loops for dinner because everything else looks "icky."

washingtonpost.com: Oh, snap.

Gene Weingarten: Very well put. Made me laugh. But ... I am not a picky eater. I am the opposite of a picky eater. I have always been famous among friends and family for being the guy who will order the oddest thing on the menu, simply because I haven't tried it before. I will eat things others think is "disgusting." Dave Barry, who IS a picky eater (he won't eat olives because they resemble eyeballs) is appalled at what I will put in my mouth. I wrote a story about this in the Post, which Liz will link to. It is very short.

So, your thesis is off. I am not picky, I am wildly opinionated. I truly find most of the ingredients of Indian curry to be distasteful. I find dark chocolate to be disagreeable. And (important) I am certain, without a doubt, that the elbow is the best part of the lobster.

Gene Weingarten: Oh, by the way, has anyone tried any of those tapioca drinks in Chinese restaurants, the ones served with the big, fat straws? Even EYE know they are disgusting.

washingtonpost.com: Tales of a Fearless Eater, ( Post, April 28, 1999)

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More on Date Lab: I remembered the comment in last week's updates when I read Date Lab this past weekend. Not only did this couple seem to hit it off, they were practically having sex on the dessert plates by the time the date was over. And then...nothing. What is up with these people? Is it pressure to have a cute story to report the next day, or relief that the other person isn't a freak, or what?

Gene Weingarten: The poster from last week kind of nailed this. You're trying to adapt to an experiment; it's a lab. You're trying too hard to make it seem to work, but by week two you're focused on all the things that WEREN'T quite right.

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Poetry Poll: Gene, I tried. But I couldn't do it. Despite being a liberal-arts-leaning type (with an interest in math and science), I could not force myself to finish reading even one of those poems. To me, all poetry is equally awful. All poetry is Vogon poetry.

Gene Weingarten: What is WRONG with you people?

However, I like the Vogon line.

Here is a sample of Vogon poetry, from the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy:

Oh freddled gruntbuggly,

Thy micturations are to me

As plurdled gabbleblotchits

On a lurgid bee.

Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes

And hooptiously drangle me

With crinkly bindlewurdles,

Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon,

See if I don't!

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hotda, MN: Speaking of Clumsy Carp, how far ahead did Johnny Hart write BC, anyway? They're still running new strips . . . .

Gene Weingarten: Nope. As of, I think, today, they are reruns.

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Pot Kettle Pot Kettle: Button-fly jeans? What about straight razors? Admit it Gene, it's all about the cachet not the practicality.

Gene Weingarten: Yeah, but straight razors do not sell, except to a few hundred nuts like me, nationwide.

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Washington, D.C.:1. Button fly jeans fit differently than zip-up jeans. On women, each button gives laterally to a different degree, making a shapelier fit. For men, same thing, disguising any unsightly bulging. And really, if you can't button and unbutton a nice broken-in fly (I admit it can be a little stiff when new) then you should probably talk to your doctor about your arthritis.

2. Two-stream toothpaste is a gimmick. You're supposed to believe that the mixing of the two ingredients produces an impressive chemical reaction that can't be contained in advance, like vinegar and baking soda. I don't buy it.

3. Chunky peanut butter. Clearly superior. You're just wrong here. But then, you eat hotdogs plain, so we can let it go for reasons of insanity.

Gene Weingarten: Liz, can you find my original reference to plain hot dogs? It has been furiously bandied about lately, started by Liz, and I do not remember saying it. I'm not saying I didn't, I just don't recall, nor do I recall the all-important context.

I usually put small amounts of mustard and sauerkraut on my dogs. So, I dare you: Find it.

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Enlighten, US: What does SAP stand for as used by the companies in your most recent column? I can never figure this out, and immediately think of the spanish-language controls on my TV when I see it, even though I know that's not what they mean. I think.

Gene Weingarten: I forget. It is VERY boring.

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Washington, D.C.: I wanted to take the poll, but was unable to because of your inclusion of "My Last Duchess." I acknowledge that it is a very good poem, but I am completely unable to evaluate it objectively because the narrator is such a despicable person.

So I guess you could say that Browning did a really good job with it. He wrote a beautiful poem that outlines a horrible character so clearly that I can barely bring myself to read it. Good job, Browning!

Gene Weingarten: Well, yes. Exactly.

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Gaithersburg, Md.: Today is my 20th wedding anniversary. I'm depressed because I sprained my ankle Saturday and I wasn't able to get out to even get my husband a card or go shopping with him for his HDTV. (The deal- he picked out a beautiful wedding/anniversay ring for me, I'd go shopping with him for a flat-screen HDTV). Can you say "Happy Anniversay, Joe" and I can show him he got into your chat? We are both Losers, if you know what I mean.

Gene Weingarten: He's better off without you. An HDTV must be purchased without any practicality whatsoever. You would have been a civilizing force, which is bad. You will both know this, and feel better about it, in a few years.

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Chunky munky: Chunky peanut butter is the only sane way to make peanut butter cookies.

As for the button fly? Women think it's sexy. Also, there are men with zipper phobias out there. But really, it's sexy. I'm getting a little warm here...

washingtonpost.com: Chunky peanut butter is better on apples.

Gene Weingarten: You're right. I was wrong. Chunky peanut butter is better. Also, dark chocolate. And can someone get me a curry, stat?!

Gene Weingarten: Through some IT trick of hers, the dastardly Cwoman wrote that last line.

Sexy? Why?

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Copping a Feel: Gene -- If a woman can keep her arm straight down beside her, it remains between the armrest-hogger's arm and her boob. If she must put her arm forward toward her lap in order to avoid touching him all the way to Cleveland or wherever, he will usually spread out more and his forearm or elbow will be touching her boob all the way to wherever. Whether he's copping a feel probably has to do with whether he wants to touch her boob or just hog all the space, or both. And yes, planes are awful, but women try harder not to touch or be touched by their neighbors.

Gene Weingarten: Uh, no seemingly accidental boob touch is accidental, but who would do this???

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Fibro: Holy cow! Forget May-September relationships...this business about fibro is judgmental!

Yes, fibro is a "garbage can" diagnosis... when you've exhausted all the other possibilities and nothing fits, it's what you're left with. And yes, there are probably people who are inappropriately diagnosed with this poorly-understood condition (think "hysteria" in the 19th century, yes?).

But the fact that we don't really understand it, and the fact that some people who claim to have it but don't (btw, many of those are probably self-diagnosed thanks to webmd.com, Oprah and the ilk), does not, DOES NOT make it a FAKE disease! To claim otherwise diminishes the very real, very scary (because clinicians don't really know what's going on) situation that people who do really have it live with day in and day out.

But you argue that you can't tell which people who say they have fibro really do have it, and which are hypochondriacs. So out there, in the universe of of people with disease, there are some who have fibro with a diagnosis of fibro, some who have fibro without a diagnosis, some with a fibro diagnosis who do not have whatever real disorder this thing actually is and those (you?) who neither have it nor have been diagnosed thusly (Venn diagrams would make this much easier). And you're going to assume that anyone you talk to who claims to have fibro necessarily falls into this third group and must therefore be nutty despite the clear presence of other totally valid groups?

How is that not judgmental? How is this any different than assuming that an older man with a younger woman is a lech and that she's naive just because that's the case occasionally?

By the way, the phenomenon of increased chances of co-existing disorders is known to occur with lots of very real, very physiological, fairly well-understood autoimmune diseases.

Off my soapbox...

Gene Weingarten: Many people diagnosed with fibromyalgia have written in, with some variation of this argument. But this is sort of exactly the point I was making initially.

I wrote my hypochondria book in 1997, and at the time fibromyalgia was even more misunderstood than it is now. Showing my usual sensitivity, I described it as a definite, serious, real illness that tragically seems to single out the most vunerable among us, namely, "whining nutcakes."

At the time, when I talked to them off the record, many doctors, including specialists in musculoskeletal diseases, said that whether it was real or not, it had become a catchall diagnosis for hypochondriacs. I think it still is, to some extent.

What HAS changed, as you point out, is that there really does seem to be some affliction out there, with a familiar web of symptoms, that is real. It's still controversial because research hasn't really figured out what it is. It's more a description of a set of symptoms than a description of a disease. I don't think it's a particularly persuasive argument to note that rheumatologists treat it -- um, they charge money to treat it -- but I am persuaded by the fact that the NIH says it is real. I accept it is real.

To paraphrase Ron Ziegler, it's not that I was wrong, it's that, as a term, "whining nutcakes" is no longer operative.

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Organ Donor Dilemma: In response to Friday's update, about the woman who was an organ donor until her husband asked her to revoke her donor status: OK, if he gets to choose for her, can she choose for him? If he is in the unfortunate position of having no further use for his organs, can she decide to donate them? Our situation is less extreme: My husband and I agree on organ donation; however, we have differing opinions about cremation/burial/donation of the body. He doesn't want to be cremated; OK, fine, dear, just tell me where you want to be buried. Before he came along (I married at 40), I planned to donate my organs and then be cremated, partly because where I wanted to be buried could not accept bodies. Lately, though, I've been considering donating my organs and then the rest of the body for research. This ooks my husband. I told him, OK, fine -- whatever he wants to do (again, organ donation is not at issue). Only one absolute on my side -- no open casket except for him and our parents/siblings if they want. I think of it this way -- I won't be using the body any longer, and if he wants it buried (not donated or cremated) and that gives him comfort when I'm gone, then so be it. I also would defer to his wishes not to be cremated -- I don't feel that strongly about it. But it is an interesting question -- whose desires outweigh the other? The one who possessed the body during life, or the one dealing with the loss, and the logistics, afterwards?

Gene Weingarten: I didn't actually say how I feel about it, so let me do so now: I don't give a crap about what happens to my body when I die, because my body is not me. I don't care if it is hanged in effigy then drawn and quartered. However, for the same reason that I don't think it is good to litter and I do think it is good to give to charity, I definitely do want my organs donated to whomever might need them. (In this case, this is actually probably theoretical; I have had Hepatitis C, and I think my organs are tainted.)

However, as I have writ, there is a new element to the mix. I want that funny tombstone at Congressional Cemetery, so I'm gonna be buried.

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Fairfax, Va.: Why do the products mentioned endure?

In a word, Testosterone

Gene Weingarten: Even the toothpaste?

I accept that those button flies might slightly help conceal spread (though I'm having trouble seeing this) but do other women out there also find the button flies sexier?

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washingtonpost.com: Shhh.. Gene doesn't know I'm posting this.

I'm having a little trouble keeping up with the new questions coming in and finding Gene's original reference to plain hot dogs. Anyone out there willing to help me locate that original reference?

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Atlanta, Ga.: Spending an extra 10 seconds buttoning my jeans is a very small price to pay for a guarantee of never having my fly open!

Gene Weingarten: WRONG! Those buttons open more often. Plus you can leave one open acccidentally.

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Dilemna Mor, AL: OK, so I'm riding the Metro after work last week and take my usual place standing inside the door that's not about to open, looking into the car. A young woman seated across from me is facing forward (perpendicular to me) and leaning over her book in such a way that I have a perfect view of her entire right breast. I immediately looked away, remembering Seinfeld's admonition. Then began wondering, "Should I tell her?" I am an overweight, happily married, 47 year old and she was about half my age. I don't believe anyone else on the car at that moment could see her, but what should I have done?

Fortunately the train arrived at my stop and I exited without another glance (fighting the urge every step of the way).

Gene Weingarten: You did right. She knew.

Women ALWAYS know. If she looked that way she wanted to look that way, and if there is any woman out there who disagrees with me, speak up.

This has nothing to do with the question of whether you should have told her, the answer to which is NO.

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Washington, D.C.: I have a pair of button up jeans and they are flattering to the junk. That may be an explanation for their continued existence.

Also, your garden plot looks good. Do you get advice from Adrian Higgins about gardening? I noticed you planted eggplant. You talk smack about crunchy peanut butter and you plant eggplants. Cooked eggplant has the consistency of snot.

Gene Weingarten: Cooked eggplant is among the finest vegetable dishes in the world. See, this is what I am talking about. I am not a picky eater.

I planted Asian eggplant. Even better.

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Men With Legs Splayed Out: Surely that's simple male vanity. During a summer off from college, I made the mistake of accepting a job with a landscaping crew - the worst fit for a geeky bookworm. One of my co-workers told me to sit with my legs spread apart, "so it looks like you have something between your legs."

Gene Weingarten: Hahahahahaha. Oh, man. Can this be true?

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Wash. DC: Dear Gene,

I'm a fan from your first days at the Post. Glad they got you. Glad you've stayed.

But here's the thing. I've read lots and lots of things over the years in the Post that I know for a fact just aren't quite right... where it's clear that the writer has not let the facts get in the way of a good story. It's mostly been in feature stories, where timelines get moved around, or the weather of a particular day is changed, things like that. Generally, I'll give them a pass if they're making a broader point, but you pulled a doozy several years ago, and before I mention it, and ask for your thoughts, I'll quote you from the last chat, the one where you pretended to admit you were lying about the existence of the fellow from Sierra Leone.

GW: "It's not okay [to make things up in a story]. There is a basic, unstated covenant between a writer and a reader; you are entitled to believe that you are being told the literal truth."

Okay, so here's what's bugging me. Back in 1993 you wrote that big story about Bill Clinton's natural father, William Blythe, who died before Clinton was born. You set up the dramatic scene of the car crash. You described the vehicle. You described the crash. The detail was positively novelistic. Lovely prose. Really. I wish I'd saved it. But when you described the aftermath of the wreck -- with the car flipped over off the side of the road... Blythe dying or dead... -- you wrote something about the country music coming out of the tinny car speakers on the a.m. radio.

And that's where my eyebrows went up. Do you know for a fact that country music was playing from the car speakers after the wreck? And if you don't know, why put it in? This wasn't a novel. Or even the place for "well, it could have happened that way." It was a feature story in a major newspaper.

Fact? Fiction?

It's possible that I'm remembering it wrong. But I recall being so jarred by that sentence that I was skeptical about everything that came after in the story.

Thoughts? Thanks.

washingtonpost.com: The First Father, ( Post, June 1993)

Gene Weingarten: Thanks for the compliment, but I think you are misremembering. I described EVERYTHING about that scene in extreme detail, plus I explained how I knew it. I had found and interviewed the only eyewitness, Roscoe Gist. This is right in the story. What is not to understand?

(You only need to read about five inches into the story to see this.)

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Fairfax, Va.: Here's an aptonym for ya. The inventor of the clinical thermometer was Sir Thomas Clifford Allbutt.

Gene Weingarten: Very nice!!!

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Cheverly, Md.: I have a Ph.D. in English from Yale, and I am astounded at your characterization of these five poems, four of which are great, one (the Browning), very good of its kind. Rereading each of them delights me, and I find that "The Tyger" still gives me chills ("And what shoulder, and what art/Could twist the sinews of thy heart?") Each of them is very thoroughly and beautifully wrought, conveying a single thought (mark of the lyric poem) completely, intensely, "poetically." Each of them exploits the riches of the English language, descriptive, philosophical, melodic. What's not to like?

Gene Weingarten: Well we shall have to see, shan't we, Mr. or Ms. PhD in English.

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To Lyres-lover Liz:: To whom can I voice my frustration with the new home page design? More specifically, WHY ARE YOU HIDING GENE UNDER A BUSHEL? (image of Shalitesque hair sprouting out from a basket)

I know others have mentioned this already, but scrolling all over the home page to find the chats, instead of linking from the top, is annoying. No, I don't want to bookmark tons of pages within washingtonpost.com -- defeats the purpose. And trying to find Gene's daily updates -- it's like you've hidden them on purpose in the bowels of the site. Did my boss put you up to this?

washingtonpost.com: I hear you.

Gene Weingarten: The question is, does Jim Brady, who runs, dotcom, hear you?

I have gotten about a hundred comments on the new design of the website. Not one has been complimentary. Now, this sample is corrupted and statistically invalid because I am hearing from people whose interest is live online. However, it does make one point quite clearly: The new design screws up access to live online. Unless that is the INTENT of the new design, changes must be made.

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Wivenhoe, Essex: Very Great: Lake Isle of Innisfree

Great: The Tyger

Very good: My Last Duchess

Mediocre: Ozymandias

Bad: The Road Not Taken

The problem with "Ozymandias" and "The Road Not Taken" is that they both hit you with a Lesson. It's like a story that ends with "and the moral is...". Tacky. Preachy. "The Road Not Taken" is the worst of all the poems, because besides being unsubtle it's just pedestrian verse. It's, like, made to go on a refrigerator magnet. "Ozymandias" uses more interesting language; as preachy poems go it's one of the better ones.

"Lake Isle of Innisfree" doesn't try to teach you anything; it just expresses a longing and expresses it in beautiful, unexpected words. "The Tyger" also has beautiful language, and wonderful imagery.

"My Last Duchess" is hard to rank because it's basically a joke told in rhyme, not a poem. You can't really compare it to the others because it's not trying to do the same thing. I do find it very good as a joke, though.

Gene Weingarten: One of the things you say is correct, if for the wrong reason.

Gene Weingarten: EXACTLY one thing is correct.

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Sexy buttons : Buttons are just sexier than zippers. You can yank apart buttons in a romance-novelesque fashion. What can you do with a zipper? Unzip it really fast? That seems dangerous.

Gene Weingarten: Hm. Well, I guess it is a sign of my status in life, age and whatnot, that this explanation never occurred to me.

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Button fly: I'm laughing over here. This reminds me of the old SNL fake-commercial for 3-legged jeans; at the end a guy says, "Why not? It isn't any stupider than acid wash."

Gene Weingarten: Hahaha. My friend Rachel was watching an early SNL, year one, and saw one of their fake ads for razors with ... THREE BLADES. That was the joke -- the ridiculousness of three blades.

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Butt, ON: It's not that a button fly is sexy. It's that unbuttoning a man's (or woman's) fly is very sexy.

Gene Weingarten: Understood. I guess.

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Northern Virginia: Cooked eggplant does not have the consistency of snot. Cooked okra has the consistency of snot. Just ask Dave Barry.

Gene Weingarten: The problem with okra is the slime. It is a slimy veg. I am not crazy about it, but I would eat an okra casserole in okra sauce, topped with grated okra, before I would consume Indian curry.

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I disagree! But don't tell me.: I am a young woman, and yes, I occasionally wear tops that are cut low. I wear them when I go out on the weekends, because men are hopeless. But if you have a view on a weekday, on the metro... that is probably an accident. I have definitely gotten dressed for work, looked completely appropriate in my full-length mirror, and then caught a glimpse of my reflection sometime later in the day - and WOW, so not the same thing. Clothing shifts, you sit differently, etc. So it's not always on purpose. But you probably still shouldn't tell her.

Gene Weingarten: Okay.

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Dog question: Gene, I just adopted a dog last week from a shelter, and I'm picking him up today from the vet (he got "fixed" yesterday). He's the first dog I've had as an adult, so I'm a little new to this...since you're such a lover of dogs, can you put my mind at ease that he won't hate me for making him have this surgery? Thanks!

Gene Weingarten: He won't even know he had the surgery. And you will have a far saner dog on your hands.

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Edmonton, AB, Canada: Re: Being cremated and flushed down the toilet instead.

Actually, I don't get it. I have observed that people care about what happens to the dead body, but I still can't get why. I would think that a request to have your own corpse treated in a certain way would be indulged as a sign of dementia, but really, rationally, what do you care?

I mean, I understand the first stages of denial, when you think they aren't really dead, they'll wake up and come back if you get the funeral right, and in those religious traditions which require the burial within 24 hours of death, I can see people going through the ceremonies in that highly superstitious state.

But refusing organ donation is not like failing to follow the wishes of the deceased concerning their funeral arrangements, it's more like cheating other heirs out of their inheritance. It's worse than cheating other heirs of money -- the deceased wanted to give eyesight or even life itself to someone, and how can we countenance letting anyone, however grief-stricken and superstitious, countermand that kind of bequest?

Gene Weingarten: Right.

You know something else I've never understood? Every time there is an airplane crash into the ocean, the relatives of the victims become (in my mind) irrationally invested in recovery of the bodies or remains? Sometimes, hundreds of thousands of dollars are spent in recovery efforts, just to satisfy them.

I don't get it. I don't mean to be callous, but if you know your loved one was on that plane, who really gives a damn if some shreds of tissue are recovered?

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Alexandria, Va.: I don't know where to begin on the small-minded, judgmental busybodies who think their opinion about other people's relationships is worth a fig.

I am in love with and love my husband beyond words. I can think of no other way I would rather spend time than to be with him, even if just sitting in bed reading. We spend our lives doing things from hiking to cooking to visiting museums to discussing world politics to just being silly. We have fun with each other. We are both successful in our given professions and our incomes are similar. We are the "marriage of true minds" so many people never are lucky enough to experience. I have seen five or my friends' marriages fall apart recently and look at my husband in wonder that he and I found what we did. It is hard to describe, because "best friends" doesn't do it. It is more that we are just so simply in sync, and we like each other so much as people, that he is part of me and I of him. We are each our own people, independent and strong, we respect each other, treat each other kindly and fairly, are great people as one, but together, we are more than the sum of our parts. He makes me better; I make him better. Everyone who meets us comments on how we look at each other. I love him more every day, which I never believe is possible. And the passion never diminishes, either. When I see him, my heart leaps, even after 10 years.

Oh, and he is 20 years older than I. So I guess I am a money-grubbing floozy and he a daddy figure seeking to relive his youth.

Gene Weingarten: I think the results of the poll and discussion last week were fairly persuasive. People exhibited a type of knee-jerk prejudice about age that would have been more clearly indefensible if it were about race or gender. And I think that, by and large, they regretted it!

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Re: Organ Donations from update post: I have a different perspective on this, since you couldn't imagine why the husband felt like this - no evidence that the husband believes anything like I do, but ...

So I am not an organ donor, not because of any philosophical difference, but because when you are an organ donor, your near-end-of-life-care has the potential to be focused more on harvesting organs than either easing your last moments or even saving you. The medical team has to make a decision and then start treating your body differently, potentially leading in my opinion to conflicts of interest.

I can also see, although I would not impose this on my husband, that I would want to prevent the same situation from applying to my spouse.

my 2 cents.

Gene Weingarten: Yeah, a couple of people have raised this issue.

I can only answer for myself.

First, I trust medical professionals more than that.

Second, if the state of my life is so dire that an issue of whether to let me die is appropriate medically -- even if the issue is organ donorship -- I want to die.

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Cremated and flushed: I am somewhat surprised at your response to Organ Donor Dilemma (update 5/18) -- not about her bassic issue; I fully agree the husband is out of order and her decision about donation of usable body parts should trump. However, I take issue with the concept that there is analogy to be made between that decision and the disposition of the "shell." For precisely the reason you state -- NOTHING happens to ME after I'm dead - my conviction is that the ultimate disposal of the remains should address the feelings and needs of those left behind.

I like to think that my spouse and/or children would consider my stated preference, but in the final analysis, they should do whatever gives them comfort and/or fits the budget. Just make sure I'm thoroughly dead. After that, whatever works for them is fine by me. If it turns out to be C & F, so be it.

Gene Weingarten: You missed my point.

The woman who wrote in wanted her body parts donated. She lived her life with that wish and hope. She wanted to be thought of as the sort of person who would donate her parts. Her husband was telling her, no, he wasn't going to do it.

This is unconscionable, in my opinion. It was about her peace of mind in life.

Sure, you could argue that he could TELL her he was donating her parts, to appease her, and then not do it, to appease him. But would you want to be married to that person?

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Electric carving knives: Do people still sell and buy these?

Gene Weingarten: Good point!

Also, I am not convinced that vibrating manual razors do ANYTHING.

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I-270, Exit 1: In defense of the two-stream toothpaste. One of the streams usually contains hydrogen peroxide (H2O2). H2O2 is a very unstable compound and reacts quickly with fluoride. The separate compartments increase the life of the product. My problem with this product is that each streams ejects to the outside, leaving a gap where you put your toothbrush.

I can't use chemistry to explain the need for button fly jeans or text messaging.

Gene Weingarten: Yeah, but most toothpastes don't do this, so, you know....

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Why ask why: I'm female, and don't understand the boots-and-skirt appeal at all.

But the button fly, yeah, that I understand.

Gene Weingarten: I gave a detailed explanation of the boots and skirt thing once. Basically it's a faint hint of domination, coupled with a very sexy display of the leg. Just do it, okay?

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Showing what was not intended...: I think I gave some poor man the challenge of his life once in regards to this. I got caught in a thunderstorm walking home one evening wearing a white shirt and a thinner bra. A nice man held the door open for me as I ran into the building. Didn't say anything to me. Got upstairs and realized just how much was showing through the shirt. I'm so grateful to the guy for not pointing anything out, because it was embarrassing enough when I realiezed.

Gene Weingarten: Yeah. The only time I would tell a woman she was showing more than she knew is if:

1. I knew the woman; and

2. She was about to walk onstage before an audience of 6,000.

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Washington, DC: Here is the original hot dog chat. Gene doesn't actually advocate plain dogs, though. He just says no ketchup.

washingtonpost.com: Ahhh. Umm, yes. I see Gene expresses a preference for "auerkraut and a slight tickling of good mustard."

However, I am SURE he once told me he preferred them plain. Must've been in a private communication channel.

Gene Weingarten: I am vindicated!

See, this is the power of Chatwoman. A few weeks ago she starts talking about how I like plain dogs, and I ACCEPT THAT SHE MUST BE RIGHT.

No, sweetie, I never told you that. Honest, I dont eat em plain. But I forgive you.

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Washington, D.C.: Anyone notice the eggheads readers are on another chat discussing whether Lincoln could have been saved by modern technology? Absoluately. I could have text messaged him and told him to duck.

Gene Weingarten: Well, he also could have been killed quicker by modern technology. Booth would not have been using a one bullet derringer.

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The great beyo, ND: I know that some Christian traditions discouraged organ donation on the grounds that when Christ returns and performs bodily resurrection on all the believers, He needs the whole body to make it work. (Other Christian groups reckon that hey, He's Christ, He can figure out a workaround.)

If you haven't already read it, Gene, pick up a book called "Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers," by Mary Roach. It is the most hilarious book about dead bodies that has ever been written.

Gene Weingarten: I've read it, yeah. Love it.

I've always wondered about that body-in-heaven thing. God can't be mean enough to give people the bodies they have WHEN THEY DIE, can He? That would be so cruel. I want the body I had when I was 18.

Wait... I want the body Jake Gyllenhaal had when he was 18.

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Inferior commercial products: Well, automatic flushing toilets seem to have lasted more than 15 minutes, which frankly astonishes me.

Gene Weingarten: The explanation there is financial. Companies don't care what we think -- it saves them money.

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Gene Weingarten: Does anyone know why a fighter jet is making passes over my house? Serious question. Two so far, low and loud. Is something going on? I live 7 blocks from the Capitol.

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Bethesda, Md.: My parents have an electric carving knife! They use it on holidays, to make cutting up the turkey and ham go faster. We're usually running around like crazy, half-drunk and hollering to people in other rooms, so I think they like to minimize the time during which a big sharp knife is out and being used.

Gene Weingarten: Uh, it takes about a half second to make a cut in a turkey. You want it FASTER?

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Washington, D.C.: I agree with everyone saying, "why do you care about the body after the person dies," but I also know that when the hospital called up to ask if they could harvest Dad's eyes, I could only think of what those eyes used to mean to me, and in the end, Mom didn't say yes. I wish they could have/would have just taken them without bothering us about it and forcing us to think about Dad's eyes being cut out on the first day we were dealing with having him gone (don't know if Dad was listed as an organ donor on his driver's license).

Gene Weingarten: My point is, and I mean no cruelty, those were not Dad's eyes.

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Bet She Didn't Know: Gene,

I saw a woman in our offices one day who had (I hope!) just come from the ladies'. The back of her skirt was tucked into her pantyhose. I was quite embarrassed but I told her. Are you saying she knew and I shouldn't've? By the way, I knew her very casually, barely a "hi" in the hallway.

Gene Weingarten: No, you did good.

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Anyone at the Post know what's going on right now...: I'm in an office building in Southwest, right across from the Ford House Offices, and twice in the last few minutes we've heard what sounds like military jets streak by, low and loud. Anyone know what's up?

Gene Weingarten: Wow, this came in as I posted mine. Help.

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College Park, Md.: Your poll really got me thinking. I was drawn to the two seemingly opposite poems -- the Browning and the Shelley. One is clear and concise, while the other flows and floats loftily along. (Wow, how's that for consonance?!)

Gene Weingarten: You are a smart person -- the first entirely right answer I have seen, among the questions. So here we go with the poll analysis.

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Gene Weingarten: Okay, the poll.

I will confess, my deepest wishes were not met here. I wanted the artsy-fartsy people to do less well than the science-y people. I had a theory that people coming into this with a sense of inferiority or intimidation --as mere readers -- would do better than people coming into it as self-confident critics. Alas, the critics won.

The biggest flaw, in both groups, was a failure to understand the brilliance of Last Duchess, one of the greats.

I should point out that my overall analysis would probably not be endorsed by any poetry expert, though poetry experts would disagree with each other, too. It is simply a matter of uncontestable fact that I am right. I deliberately didn't visit websites for established analyses because they might have weakened my audacity.

There are two great poems among these - Ozymandias and My Last Duchess. The first - written quickly, in the heat of an effete writing contest among a group of effete poets - was considered so minor, even by Shelley, that it was not included in some of his early compendia. Fortunately, as is so often the case, its greatness was proven by the test of time (an interesting fact, given the subject matter of the poem.)

If you read Ozymandias aloud to a roomful of persons who spoke no English at all, they would know it was beautiful. That cannot be said for any of the other poems here; the meter, the flow of syllables, from the first word to the last, is artistry beyond compare. Its theme is huge, literally and figuratively, and the execution is perfect. The sparseness is perfect. It's about both the impermanence of fame and power, and the hollowness of pretensions to importance, but also, conversely, the timelessness of art. It's huge. It's the best and the deepest AND the most beautiful. (By the way, Ozymandias, roughly translated, is "ruler of air." In case you wanted to know. He's got all bases covered.

The rhyme scheme is amazingly complicated, obvious on the page, but when spoken aloud, the poem becomes a masterpiece of internal rhyme - the rhymes are not at the end of sentences - so they flow without a hint of singsongy pretension, as in The Tyger, which we will get to anon.

Thought experiment: Read aloud, right now, the end of Ozymandias, from "Nothing beside remains." Do you see the incredible elegance of it?

---

My Last Duchess - Yeah, it's complicated, with difficult references. That should not have deterred you. This is a great poem because of what Browning accomplishes as a storyteller. It's a novel, told in a few dozen lines. The full story explodes not on your page, but in your head.

This is murder mystery. It's also a rich character study of three people - the Duke, his (likely) murdered Duchess, and the emissary of the would-be new duchess's father, whose horror at what he is hearing becomes evident at the end. Mostly, it is a masterpiece of indirection; we hear a man speaking, passionately, about his life, and we realize, with mounting discomfort, that while he is not lying, he is oblivious to monstrousness of his own nature. This ain't just a Poe story - it is about the possessiveness of men toward women (Neptune taming a seahorse!), about sexual jealousy, about the lie of aristocracy. It's a monster poem, and you guys should have seen it.

Lake Isle of Innisfree is a perfectly nice poem, with some very pretty writing ("bee-loud glade") but ruined a bit by the obviousness of that final. Its subject matter is also pretty obvious, and a little trite, no? "I like pastoral beauty and simplicity, it makes me calm." Okay. It's good though. The first few words establish we are in residence in his mind, not in a real place. It's good. Good, Yeats. You've done much better, but good.

-------

Tyger.

Why do people love this poem so much? It has one very fine phrase ("fearful symmetry") but the rest of it reads much like a child's chanting rhymy poem, with infantile thud-thud. Mostly though, my criticism is this: What is it saying, exactly??? Wow, look at the lion. He's beautiful and can do awful things.... how could God have made this creature? I wonder what that means about what kind of guy God is?"

Okay....

He doesn't bring us anywhere with this poem. Plus, I hate the gimmickry of that last line. That last line is a sucky last line. Know what it reminds me of? Margaritaville, where Buffet gradually changes it from "But I know it's nobody's fault" to "I know it's my own damn fault." Yech.

-----

And now, to the worst poem here. I'm going to love this.

First off, let's acknowledge that "The Road Not Taken" doesn't mean what everyone thinks it means. It's not about that simplistic notion that you should dare to be your own self by choosing the path less traveled. How do we know this? Because as an older man, he is looking back on this moment, and relating this story with a "sigh." Why would he do that if he felt he made the right choice? "Making all the difference" can be interpreted two ways, you know.

Also the title says The Road NOT traveled.

So something else is going on here. But what? Here is where the poem's glaring weaknesses begin to spill forth.

Frost does say that one of these roads appeared more grassy and less traveled, but he takes great pains to say it really wasn't much different from the other. He almost seems to have taken the one he took at random, planning to explore the other anyway.

Huh?

Now what are we to make of this? The Hallmark explanation has disappeared, but so has most of the logic. Obviously, this is about choices in life, little ones that one makes not knowing their significance, and each little choice IS significant in its own way. We can understand that. But then what? What does he mean that taking the less traveled road "made all the difference," if it wasn't really different from the other, AND if the difference seems to have been negative, causing regret? And why is the title referred to the road NOT taken?

Some years ago I looked at Frost experts' efforts to deconstruct this poem. It was interesting; there was no agreement. There were four or five interpretations. The only thing they agreed on was that it was a great poem. Shouldn't a great poem be comprehensible?

This one's a mess. Out of control.

By the way, you are confusing "opaque" with "difficult." Duchess is difficult, Road is opaque.

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Jets: Warming up for Memorial Day events..

Gene Weingarten: Okay.

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Annapolis, Md.: Loved your column this weekend. I feel the same frustration as you do when I'm listening to some of the commercials on WTOP that cater to the government sector. I can't tell what the hell they are selling or what "systems" they're supposed to "optimize." Just speak ENGLISH!!!

Gene Weingarten: I did a column, years ago, on just this subject. The WTOP ads for "Solutions." Liz, can you find this? Ummmm, look for, ah, wow, I have no idea. Give it a try. It was about solutions or something. I listened to an ad that made no sense, then called the president of the company. He had a voice like James Earl Jones. So, hop to it, Lizzie.

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Lansing, Mich.: WTF product: Douche.

Gene Weingarten: Hm. Is there no purpose to douches? Douchi?

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Alexandria, Va.: Hi,

For some reason I feel that you're the only one I can turn to for advice...

Several years ago I borrowed three books from a library, thought my roommate had returned them for me, found them months later, packed them away when I moved meaning to drop them by another branch of the library and completely forgot about them.

It's been about four years. I now live in another state and can't bring them back. I'm sure I owe the library at least $100 by now. I'd like to apply for a library card in the new state (and be more responsible this time).

Should I mail them back to the library with a letter asking them to tell me what I owe? I'm afraid that I'm now banned from all libraries (rightly so, really). They say that customer records are confidential, but does that mean they won't tell other libraries that I'm a thief? I'm terribly embarrassed by this and ashamed of the books that are now hidden under my bed.

Gene Weingarten: The important thing is to get the books back to the library. Libraries need the books more than they need your paltry fines. You should mail them back to the library with your name and address, say you are sorry, that you discovered these, and send them a check for the cost of the books, which will be far less than $100. They will accept this, and clear your name.

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Charleston, W.Va.: Gene,

Just read the part of your Friday update about the woman whose husband is against organ donation, and asked her not to be an organ donor because he'd have enough emotional stuff to deal with if she died.

The reverse should also be true. If the woman's husband dies, she would no doubt be traumatized, but it would give her some comfort if she knew that her husband's organs had been donated, so part of him would live on.

So if she's not going to be an organ donor, he should become one.

Gene Weingarten: I like that!

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Brooklyn, N.Y.: Two items from last week's chat are driving me to distraction and I had to write in so that I could get some work done.

First, you had a lengthy argument about ketchup and hot dogs. I have my own opinion on their combination, but I cannot, for the life of me, understand why people take the time to disagree on taste. Your taste buds are individualized and, as with any other subjective experience, you cannot convince someone to like or dislike a taste. For example, I love Brussels sprouts and I will go out of my way to eat them; my partner hates Brussels sprouts. Instead of arguing with him, I think, "Whoopee! More for me!"

Second, in reaction to the poll, I was surprised that no one commented on the sexual attraction younger people have to the experience of older people. Older people are more experienced in -many- areas, right? Why assume that the older person is the lech and not the younger? I know that in the times I have pursued older men, it's been primarily for that reason.

Maybe I'm just a lecherous young woman, though.

Gene Weingarten: I said in the last chat that I approve of ketchup only with lousy fries; I realize there is another exception, and I also realize that it will seem weird to many. I use ketchup with scrambled eggs.

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Arlington, Va.: The name of the Department Head of the Navy Mortuary Affairs Program is LT Graves.

Gene Weingarten: Thank you.

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Blue Angels, Annapolis: Trust me, it's the Blue Angels. They've been flying around Annapolis for hours. At the speeds they go and the noise levels they produce, I'm sure they've swung close enough to DC for you to hear them.

They're doing a fly over at 2pm for the Naval Academy Grads.

Gene Weingarten: Yeah, several people have said that. Annapolis to D.C. is quite a run, but not for a jet, I guess.

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Washington, D.C.: Memorial Day airshow practice? Please? But thanks for freaking me out.

Gene Weingarten: Murphy is freaking out, too. The world appears to be ending. She is all over me and my keyboard right nwooljzdm.s.

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"Women always know": Wow, Gene, I had no idea you were such a glass bowl.

Do you assume women always know if their fly is open as well? That woman was READING A BOOK. I doubt she noticed or cared what Mr. Titillated thought of what she was wearing or how she was sitting or any of it.

Do you really, seriously, and for real think that women go around each and every moment of the day thinking about all the details of our personal appearance and its effect on men?

Wow. That's got to be one of the most obnoxious things you have ever said.

Gene Weingarten: My contention is that women dress strategically and with aforethought, and men, basically put on a pair of pants and a shirt. I once wrote a column about this, too, involving women who wear miniskirts and then ride escalators. Liz, can you find THAT ONE? It was with Gina.

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Miami, Fla.: I was in line behind Dave Barry at a Publix. He was alone and buying a jar of olives, nothing else. I figured it was the only thing Michelle trusted him to buy... now in light of your revelation, it's odder than it appeared.

Gene Weingarten: WHAT??????????? This has to be a lie. I am going to call him right now.

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chatwoman, please!: Argh - what is with the bizarre ? in a diamond that shows up instead of a simple apostrophe on some of these long Qs and As? Are people composing in Word and then copying and pasting? Can't you filter the "smart apostrophes" out so that we can read these things?

washingtonpost.com: I don't know! I'm not seeing those -- maybe it's the apocalypse!

Gene Weingarten: My God.

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Gene Weingarten: Dave says he is going to sign on to the chat and answer this directly. I do not know the answer. We are about to hear.

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And the wind began to ho, WL: I understand you like Dylan, but do you prefer his version of "All Along the Watchtower" or Hendrix's?

Gene Weingarten: I hate Hendrix's version.

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The Poll: Isn't "The Road Not Taken" kind of a ringer? I mean, everyone knows it or has heard of it. Surely that will skew the results.

Gene Weingarten: Ah, but NO ONE understands it.

Actually, I think The Tyger is the best known of these.

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My Favorite Knock Knock Joke: Knock Knock

Who's there?

Control Freak. OK, now you say 'Control Freak who?'

Gets me every time. But maybe thats because this captures my wife perfectly

Gene Weingarten: Very good.

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Arlington, Va.: Very interesting poll. To me, Innisfree was much the best because it not only had the most beautiful language and a good poem format, it was also the deepest. What is more relevant to us and to poetry than one's heart's yearning? Creation mystery, fine (Tyger); choosing a path, beautifully written but pretty obvious; we are all dust in the end (Ozymandias), again not earth-shattering; and the Duchess simply did not grab you and a poem has to do that. Based on early poll results, I think the science people are getting fooled by the obscurity factor, when poetry at its best is about a profound but accessible idea expressed in a way you would never have thought of.

Gene Weingarten: Don't you think it might have been better if in that poem about the heart's yearning, the word "heart" was not in there? I do. A major Yeatsian misstep.

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washingtonpost.com: Peek Experiences, ( Post Magazine, Aug. 1, 2004)

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Ketchup: I use ketchup on a LOT of things. Fries are merely vehicles for ketchup.

Gene Weingarten: You write very well for a six-year-old.

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Lansing, Mich.: I once told a man in an airport that he still had one of those obnoxious size stickers running down the leg of his pants. (He was about my dad's age, and I would have wanted someone to tell my dad.) His wife was nearly hysterical, she thought it was so funny...

Gene Weingarten: I've had those many times, Patty. Whenever I am told about it, I claim it is deliberate and walk indignantly away.

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Dave in Miami: I have NEVER PURCHASED OLIVES. Drugs, yes, long ago, when they were legal. But NEVER have I purchased even a single olive. I am willing to take a lie-detector test.

Gene Weingarten: Thanks, Dave. I KNEW this was a lie.

FYI, Dave also won't eat lobster because it LOOKS like an insect.

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RE: Planes: According to WTOP the Thunderbirds are taking advantage of nice weather for a photo op and are flying over the Mall for pictures. Nothing to worry about, according to WTOP.

Gene Weingarten: Thank you, but we don't publish ads for competing news organizations. You probably meant you heard it on Washington Post Radio.

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I know!: I always know if I'm showing too much cleavage, because I'm very self-conscious about my appearance. If I'm wearing a shirt that could possibly show something, I am always looking down to make sure it hasn't shifted and showing too much. I'm almost OCD about it.

Possible reason for this phobia: when I was about 13, I hadn't quite gotten into the habit of wearing bras all the time - even though I was well endowed. One time I was playing a board game with a friend who was male. As I was leaning over the board, I looked down at myself and saw that everything was showing. I looked up at him and saw him smirk and look away.

Gene Weingarten: This post doesn't offer much in the way of additional information, but I am publishing it because it got me hot. Thank you.

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Home Sick, NE: I, too, see those wacky diamonds but only in Gene's discussion of the poems in the poll. Blake's revenge, perchance?

Gene Weingarten: We will get to the bottom of this.

Hey, according to my wise friend Horace, Shelley had a very high voice. That may be why I like him.

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Arlington, Va.: When we read the chat in IE, the page rendering thingamajig shows apostrophes as question marks. In Firefox, the thingamajig shows the diamonds.

Either way, it's really annoying.

washingtonpost.com: Try reading on a Mac, like me. Everything looks beautiful.

Gene Weingarten: There will be no Mac chauvinism on this chat.

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Washington, D.C.: Last week on my way to work I was getting a lot of attention a. more than usual and b. for the morning. I got to work and realized that a top button had come undone and I was showing a sexy amount of bra. It was right between sexy and totally inappropriate. And not a level I would normally wear to work, which is why I normally button that button, which had decided to come undone. So I'm sure those people I saw thought I was work sex kitten when really I just had a wardrobe malfunction. Sometimes there's no there there.

Gene Weingarten: I'll keep posting these. I have no shame.

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Anonymous submissions?: I've had those many times, Patty. Whenever I am told about it, I claim it is deliberate and walk indignantly away.

My name isn't Patty.

Gene Weingarten: You are in Lansing, and you are not Patty? We have TWO readers in Lansing?

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Tyger: Has to be disqualified, if only on the grounds that Britney Spears quoted it once on her web site.

Gene Weingarten: It's true. She, or whover ghost writes her web site, is a fan of Tyger.

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SAP: No need to worry about what "SAP" stands for--just remember that it's a class of software used for business stuff, like SAS or Oracle.

Gene Weingarten: Whateverrrrrr.....

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RE: Lobster: Lobsters ARE insects. Or close enough.

Gene Weingarten: They are the same phylum, I think. But humans are the same phylum as mice.

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Jet flyovers: Obnoxious and dangerous. At least they could have given the area some kind of warning. Dumb crotch jockey pilots...

Gene Weingarten: Well, it gave us a thrill, me and Murph, so I am okay with it.

That's it. Thank you all. Where are the denunciations of my poetry analyses? Expect some in the updates.

Thanks, and back next week, same time.

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Update on the Jets:"Gene Weingarten: Thank you, but we don't publish ads for competing news organizations. You probably meant you heard it on Washington Post Radio. "

Uh, no... actually WashPost radio is still trying to locate a Post-reporter-talking- head to discuss the deeper meaning of jets, loud noises, and Capitol Hill in light of the 2008 presidential race.

washingtonpost.com: Don't forget to listen to me talking about the effect of the jets on celebrity news tomorrow morning at 8:20 a.m.

Gene Weingarten: Haha.

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UPDATED: 5.23.07

Gene Weingarten: All the talk about Shelley reminded me -- the man was a hilarious hypochondriac. This is from "The Hypochondriac's Guide":

During a journey in which he shared a coach compartment with a woman with swollen legs, the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley imagined he had caught elephantiasis. For months afterward, he would examine himself for signs of the illness, which causes grotesque enlargement of the legs and, in men, the scrotum. He policed his acquaintances scrupulously to make certain no one could possibly transmit the illness to him. Shelley's biographer Thomas Hogg reports this singular event:

When many young ladies were standing up for a country dance, he caused wonderful consternation among these charming creatures by walking slowly along the row of girls and curiously surveying them, placing his eyes close to their necks and bosoms, and feeling their breasts and bare arms, in order to ascertain whether any of the fair oens had taken the horrible disease. He proceeded with so much gravity and seriousness, and his looks were so woebegone that they did not resist, or resent, the extraordinary liberties.

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NOT FROM AROUND HERE: So on Jan 21 this year, my 27-year-old brother, Aaron, died in a vehicle accident. He left a wife with two kids of his and two from her previous marriage. She lives in our hometown with her mom, and she works for my mom. Three of my brothers (two step, one natural) still live in town, and the two single ones trade off on being male when she requires it. Not like that, you perv, though several of us have been advised by our wives that if approached by the widow IN ANY WAY, we are to care for her needs. Not one of us is as sexy as my brother, so I find it unlikely that this would occur, but ... we were so advised.

As to the disposition of his body: organ donation never even came up. We certainly hadn't thought about it, and no one professional mentioned it, so we buried him essentially intact.

However, because he was who he was, we buried him in a knotty pine box, laying on the cover of his old La-Z-boy, with his breaker bar across his chest and in his hands like the old kings and heroes supposedly used to be buried with their swords. We showed up to the viewing, about 10 of us, in his old pajama pants and work shirts.

Now, as to your statement to that woman: "Those were not Dad's eyes," I'm religious, and I still agree with you.

HOWEVER, a couple of times that I've been depressed about my brother's death (Jan 21, you'll recall). Once things got to the point where my wife -- out of love and compassion -- asked me if I ought to see someone, maybe take something. My reply? And keep in mind that in that moment it made perfect sense (and that I hate poetry): "I don't want to take anything that deadens the pain of his loss, because it's all I have left of him ." The italics is where I started bawling hard that day, and frankly I think that bout of bawling is what got me out of that particular bit of depression. But what an emo thing to say!

If someone had asked me if they could take his eyes, the day after he died, I'd probably have knocked them down. I'm sure you're aware of the pain involved, but "those were not my brother's eyes" doesn't make any difference the day of/after/etc.

Gene Weingarten: Thank you for sharing that, the whole thing. You write well.

I have to say, in that last case, I seriously doubt you would have knocked them down.

Here's why -- had you contributed his eyes to, let's say, a young woman whose vision they saved, you would no longer need to say that all you had left of your brother was his pain. You would have had that young woman, for a long time.

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Wisconsin: Regarding your column on gobblydigook, I worked in D.C. for a couple years in the early 1990s. Shortly after my arrival I found myself going increasingly batty as I had to adapt to the standard D.C. literary style. Fearing that I too was sliding inevitably toward terminal dillweeddom, I conspired with my roommate to compile a complete list of what we called "Washington words." I vowed that, before I left D.C., I would use them all in an Ultimate Washington Memo. And so I did. Attached here for your reading pain....

Best wishes from the state where the word for "shelf-stable protein" is cheese.

-- Curt Meine

Gene Weingarten: This is Curt's press release, which is a masterful horror to read. I'll bet you most management bureaucrats, in any department at any level of government, would get entirely through this thinking it had said something:

A Proposal for an Effective Mechanism

In order to facilitate appropriate and proactive initiatives for effective response to cross-cutting management needs, a comprehensive mechanism is proposed. The lack of hands-on, mission-oriented linkages currently hinders efforts to achieve optimal results, limits activities that foster specific innovative procedures, and fails to encourage key program components. Analysis indicates several underlying factors responsible for these negative accomplishments: a shortage of substantive guidelines to guide cross-sector commitment; inadequate coordination of methodologies; failure to dialogue among critical information networks; and significant shortfalls in available funding alternatives. While reliable data are lacking, and issues of accountability remain unresolved, it has been established that these items constitute the principal constraints on improved productivity. The net effect is that all institutional capabilities are experiencing insufficient growth. A problematic scenario is envisioned unless flexible criteria are adopted and a strategic agenda is developed and implemented.

This proposal calls for a review of the current framework to assess both short-term concerns and long-term solutions in the interest of maximum viable security. To improve the capacity of organizations to address essential challenges, a wide range of options and approaches are identified, with emphasis on cutting-edge methods that enhance vital partnerships. The cornerstone of this exercise is a strengthened model of integrated policy support. This crucial feature will enable individuals and institutions to recognize creative collaborative possibilities, to promote efficient allocation of incentives, and to optimize responsive interactions within the administrative infrastructure. It will incorporate important and necessary utilization criteria while prioritizing the potential for multiple payoffs, based on an evaluation of performance criteria. Furthermore, it offers fresh opportunities to consolidate the foundations of programmatic functions. It is hoped that these state-of-the-art measures will harness the driving forces at work within the executive arena, focus attention on the need for constructive engagement, and balance the complex risks and benefits within the operational matrix.

These concepts require further definition of objectives as well as additional consideration of system-wide feasibility. Frankly, adjustments will be called for in the allotment of assets as new methods are determined and recommended. However, the compelling and forward-looking nature of this synthesis and the challenge of seeking new techniques for impacting the process underline the certainty that success will yield mutually beneficial rewards. A win-win outcome is therefore possible, but only if the playing field is level, and only if all players take advantage of this unique opening. From this perspective, the urgent demand is for immediate action ¿ before the window of opportunity closes.

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Columbus, Ohio: Gene, your fishhead soup reminded me of my own first Chinese Food experience. We were on vacation in Atlantic City, and one evening for dinner, our parents decided on Chinese.

Neither my brother or I remember what we ordered, but we always remembered how much we liked Chinese Food.

We felt very sophisticated as 5 and 10 year olds for liking something so exotic to us, and for years afterward told all our friends and family about how much we liked Chinese food.

Years later, my mother finally broke the news to us. The "Chinese Food" we'd been raving about for years had really been hot roast beef sandwiches! It had been on the kid's menu and it was something she knew we would eat.

Gene Weingarten: Haha.

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Arlington, Va.: I just needed to ask your opinion about this because I'm not allowed to tell other people. My dear, dear wonderful 30-year-old friend just told me that she is in a relationship in which she is in love. With a woman. This is the first time she has ever been with a woman. She has been straight her whole life and in this unveiling conversation she said that she's never, ever previously been attracted to a woman and has never had a hint of possibly being gay or bi. Apparently she fell in love with this woman's soul and who she is as a person. I'm very happy for her, but I just don't know what to make of it. Your thoughts?

Gene Weingarten: I believe you just indicated what to make of it. You're very happy for her.

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Re: Douches: Douches are a fraud! They're sold to women on the premise that you're cleaner and healthier for using them when in fact they are BAD for you. VERY BAD! This leaves women more open to bacteria and infection and keeps them reaching for the KY a lot more often.

Gene Weingarten: Approximately 6,000 women wrote with this observation.

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Gene Weingarten: I am in receipt of correspondences from two smart friends of mine -- Horace LaBadie, who is old and wise, and Caitlin Gibson, who is young and clever -- independently suggesting that I have misinterpreted a key part of the Frost poem.

I have reviewed their arguments, consulted myself, and concluded they are ... right.

Yes, you heard correctly. On a not-insignificant point, I erred. Fortunately for me, this knowledge does not invalidate my contention that "The Road Not Taken" is an inferior poem. It actually strengthens my argument. However, a clarification is in order.

By way of review:

The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveller, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could.

To where it bent in the undergrowth,

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear,

Though as for that, the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --

I took the one less travelled by,

And that has made all the difference

Both Cait and Horace (Hor? I dasn't go there) point out that the narrator is not an old man at the end, looking back at his life. He is, in fact, still a young man, contemplating how he will relate the tale of the roads when he is an old man. He supposes he will misremember the road as clearly being the one less traveled, and he will impart great significance to this.moment, in the retelling. But in fact, he'll be an old blowhard romanticizing his life.

Sure changes things. Frost is showing some humor here, which is nice, but what he is not doing is make this a bigger poem. He is making it a smaller poem, less about goals and fate, and more about the pretensions of age. It's still about choices, and it's still inconclusive. And we still aren't sure why he is relating this with a sigh. But it is not out of control as I suggested it was.

Still the worst poem there.

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UPDATED 5.24.07

Gene Weingarten: Jim Fowler of Ashburn, Va., writes in to clarify the meaning of SAP:

"SAP creates enterprise CRM and ERP solutions that interface with an SOA."

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Gene Weingarten: Thanks to Glenn Smoak who sent this link (PDF) to a fabulous office game.

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Gene Weingarten: So yesterday The Celebritologist and I were emailing about my chat updates, and she had to leave for her live gig on Washington Post radio. She invited me to tune in, but I declined, saying I would only listen to her if she talked about ME. She said she would do that just as soon as I slept with Paris Hilton. I replied that this would be too much to ask, but I'd be happy to oblige if she could find me some smart, petite, small-breasted, nice-bottomed thirtyish celebrity for me to boink.

Within seconds, she emailed me this link.

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Gene Weingarten: Received via e-mail:

I am the clinical director of the organ donation program in the state of Arizona. I'd like to address a couple of the points in this week's chat.

1. Your (or anyone's) hepatitis C is not a deal-breaker for organ donation. Some organ recipients have hepatitis C already and thus can receive organs from donors with hepatitis C.

2. Most families, when actually faced with the decision rather than a theoretical discussion, will honor their loved one's wishes, even if those wishes are in conflict with the families' own desires. I have seen this happen in both directions. I would encourage everyone to ensure that their loved ones know their wishes about donation (pro- or anti-) and to register in their state's donor registry, which can be accessed at donatelife.net

3. Hospitals do not give poorer care to organ donors. This is a well-perpetuated myth, but a myth nonetheless. Good medical care prior to death leads to good organ transplant outcomes after death occurs. Poor patient care prior to death leads to poor donation outcomes. This has been well-demonstrated.

4. No major western religions discourage donation. At worst, they are neutral on the topic, but most major ones (Catholicism, Judaism, most Protestant branches) encourage their members to donate. The logic of the body needing to be whole fails when we consider a traumatic injury victim; will God not let him into heaven because he was vivisected in the bus crash that ended his life?

Hope this helps. You can confirm much of this information at donatelife.net , or transweb.org, or unos.org. My organization is dnaz.org.

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Gene Weingarten: This just in from Victoria Baxter...

Regarding your item on the fears of Percy Shelley: In 2000, I traveled to Cuba for work. Part of the trip was meeting with scientists about their various projects. One of the meetings was at the Pedro Kouri Institute for Tropical Medicine. After the meeting (with the obligatory cup of Cuban coffee and powerpoint presentation), my hosts asked if I would like to see their museum of parasites. I said, of course, because no one in their right mind would turn that down. The "museum" was a few rooms with lots of glass jars of preserved parasites -- kind of like noodles in syrup -- each containing a little note indicating which parasite it was. One jar held a large, kind of round fleshy object probably about the size of a basketball. It was oddly familiar, but I wasn't sure what it was. The placard read: elephantiasis de scroto. Yup, a perfectly preserved enlarged scrotum. Next to it was a jar with a slightly larger, darker scrotum. The hosts turned to me and said, very nonchalantly, "de un negro."

It would have been really inappropriate to have whipped out my camera right then, but man, I wanted to.

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New York: You are a friend of Christine Lavin? I didn't know that!

She is awesome. Maybe you are better than I thought.

Gene Weingarten: Hey, listen. If you judged me entirely by who my friends are, I am a VASTLY better and more interesting person.

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Washington, D.C.: Aptonym:

Skip Virgin - a scientist who did a study about how there may be advantages to having herpes in an article entitled "The Good Thing About Herpes."

Gene Weingarten: Indeed.

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UPDATED 5.25.07

Alexandria, Va.: In your last update of the past week, you used morals and ethics interchangeably. Care to explain yourself?

Gene Weingarten: They're very close, actually. Why do you think them so different.

Morals are about what is right and wrong, based upon a general religious and/or philosophical understanding of right and wrong. Ethics are about what is right and wrong, usually based on societal norms, which, in turn, are based on morals.

You could argue that ethics are a little more situational and specific. I think that various companies, etc, have their own ethics rules -- I can't take gifts from people I write about. Is it "immoral" to do so? Not sure.

Those are my definitions. Do you take exception to this?

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Disparaging Dill: I'm doing a Summer internship at the American Dill Growers Association. There's a lot of talk here today about your use of the term "dillweed" to as a negative descriptor of PR professionals in your "Below the Beltway" article. Some of the upper management folks are even talking about a collaborative effort with the Certified Pickle Processors Group to approach the Washington Post to protest. Of course, both groups would have to hand off the task of complaining and/or "setting the record straight" to their PR departments, so ...

Gene Weingarten: I see from various dics of slang, that dillweed can be a reference to male pubic hair, being the "weed" that grows around a "dill" pickle!

I did not know that when I wrote it, but, rest assured, if I had I would not have told Tom.

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Alexandria, Va.: It's been some time since you've been immersed in kids literature, but do you have any recollection of what your favorite stories/poems/authors were when the kids were young? You talk so longingly about your desire to be a granddad... what books will PopPop Gene be reading?

P.S. My daughter's going through a Disney phase right now and it's killing me! Any suggestions you have would be MOST appreciated.

Gene Weingarten: Here are the books I remember with fondness. Bear in mind, I was reading to my kids between 1982 and 1987, so I'm not sure what's still around, among the lesser knowns:

"The Runaway Bunny," by Margaret Wise Brown.

"Mister Dog," by Margaret Wise Brown

"The Very Bumpy Bus Ride," by Michaela Muntean

"Henry's Awful Mistake," by Robert M. Quackenbush

"But No Elephants," by Jerry Smath

Everything by Seuss, the best of which were "The Lorax" and "The Butter Battle Book."

----

I hated Richard Scarry, but the kids liked him.

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Washington, D.C.: My parents' beloved 14-year-old lab died a few weeks ago. Although he was not their first dog, my mom now says he will be their last -- she says his death was too difficult and "if you died, I wouldn't get another kid." How do I convince her to get another dog, and soon?

Gene Weingarten: You won't have to. It'll take about a year.

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The Last Duchess: The narrator is despicable? Is it supposed to be a real historical figure and I didn't catch the references? I wasn't able to understand what was going on in the last half of the poem - maybe that was why. It was an in-joke, and I wasn't in on the joke.

Gene Weingarten: He came to dislike his first wife because she showed kindness to others, not lavishing it all on him, in thanks for giving her his 900-year-old name. She was completely promiscuous in her affections, thanking some stupid clodhopper who worked the grounds if he gave her a present of a flower or something. She found joy in little things, little bits of humanity and nature, including a mule she liked. He took this as a terrible affront to him, and had her killed.

Gene Weingarten: You have to READ these things.

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Cleava, GE: Is there a male equivalent? The open fly just looks goofy.

Gene Weingarten: I find cleavage goofy. I also know a fairly well-endowed woman who ALSO finds cleavage goofy. I find it goofy because it is so obvious. It seems almost desperate.

I feel the same about a high-slit skirt, so don't accuse me of being breast-phobic, even if I am.

The male equivalent of cleavage is too-tight pants. Also goofy.

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Duchess, Schmuchess: Ever seen Rowan Atkins's Fatal Beatings? Now THERE is a masterpiece.

Gene Weingarten: This is completely brilliant! This is better than Ozymandias.

Wow, seriously. Just edgy great.

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Submit to next week's discussion, with a little mustard and relish on top.

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