(Note: So it occurs to me that I didn't finish the Neuroeconomics multi-part post I had intended on finishing oh a year ago. Life happens. In any event, the work of Kahneman and Tversky, and a compiled analysis of the type of topics that deal with fallacious decision-making and its economic implications can be found in Neuroeconomics by Peter Politser. And I haven't talked to Tim in aeons, not sure where he's at. Hope all is well, and given his employment at AIG, no doubt things are. A little bailout humor there. And here)
Anyway, so yeah. Nothing like some interesting folk to run into to freak you the fuck out. A Democratic (alleged staffer, but probably volunteer) agent for Kendrick Meek was attempting to recruit me for a campaign push in the summer of 2010 a while back. I dismissed it, since frankly Governor Crist is going to beat the hell out of Meek, and also, despite Florida being a nice place, I don't particularly find it an interesting place to go bust my ass 14 hours a day for no money when I have the MCAT and Med School applications to complete. So my..."relationship" or courting from this person evolves into the random musings of someone who seems on face value, even from internet correspondances, erratic at best. There's something awry, even if (because of not being in person) the cues are not altogether explicitly clear.
Cut to a few months of correspondance later: So, the guy distributes photos of himself and his love and joy child randomly one day, which is you know sort of a sentimental thing to do. Save for the part where there's a massive elegant bong right next to his child, the child looks malnourished, and the guy has a careless shit-eating grin on his face with a nice Cuban flag t-shirt (no he isn't Cuban, apparently just wants to be the epitome of a Conservative's stereotype of a liberal). Four weeks later, his wife has left him, he is held on a 5150 equivalent, forced into detox, losing custody of his child, and suddenly embracing a crazed born-again religious philosophy to try and hold everything together, all the while laying claim to owning a radio show because he pays for advertisement on it, and seemingly in absolute denial over the car wreck that is his entire life.
Moral of the story? If people seem a little odd, and your suspicions are clinically/experimentally honed in on what cues suggest mental health issues, you should trust your instincts. Holy shit do I feel bad for his child. Best of luck to the little guy.
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