Welp, I Tried to be Serious.

There’s a book called Quirkology by a Wiseman. I mean that literally – he’s Richard Wiseman. He writes about the oddities of psychology in a charming style that I highly recommend.

Today, out of the blue, one study he wrote about came rushing – nay, surging – into my brain. It concerned the powers of our given names and how they might affect the shape of our lives.

To steal a synopsis from the author’s website (my personal copy is on loan to another private collection):

People’s surname may influence their choice of career, with real life examples including music teachers Miss Beat and Miss Sharp, a sex counsellor named Lust, Peter Atchoo the pneumonia specialist, a firm of lawyers named Lawless and Lynch, private detectives Wyre and Tapping, and the head of a psychiatric hospital, Dr. McNutt

Who else but poor old Anthony Weiner could trigger this unfortunate association?

Anthony Weiner, the former Democratic Congressman and current candidate for Mayor of New York City has a problem. It’s an acute problem: he cannot but help to send pics of his dics to any bored 22 year old in a chat-room. He seems literally incapable of stopping and his wife is kind of just over it. She knows he’s a little pervert but, then again, she’s probably got something on the side too.

The fact that this timeline even exists and he stays in the race, for now even in a slight lead, proves that Weiner is a politician with few peers:


If politicians can diffuse their unsavoriness in ways that basically don’t affect me like that, I’m happy.  It’s when they need to broadcast the medical fact that they have a penis in a different way, with more unpleasant manifestations that bothers me.

So onward and upward Mr. Weiner, and don’t pull out of the race, and so on and so forth-skin.

For you truth-seekers out there I also propose a simple moral of this story:

Truth can always be more cruel and hilarious than anything in fiction.

Editor’s Note: I know this has nothing to do with ‘Philosophy’, and is arguably not fit material ‘for humans’ either. And yet, here it is. At least I worked in the title of a book at the beginning.

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