Later On

A blog written for those whose interests more or less match mine.

Archive for December 4th, 2020

New Study Suggests Body Cams Save Lots of Black and Hispanic Lives

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Kevin Drum discusses a study that indicates that police know when what they do is wrong (and if someone, particularly a superior, is likely to see it, they won’t do it because they know it’s wrong), but if they know it will not be seen, they do it.

He writes:

This chart comes from a new paper by Taeho Kim of the University of Chicago, who investigated the rate of police-related homicides in cities that adopted body cams vs. those that didn’t. There are, of course, lots of things going on that could mess up these results, so Kim used an experimental design that depended on “idiosyncratic variation in adoption timing that is attributable to administrative hurdles.” This provides a fairly random way of creating a treatment group vs. a control group.

As you can see, agencies that adopted body cams saw a substantial reduction in police homicides: from 0.39 per 100,000 in 2013 to 0.27 in 2019. By contrast, agencies that didn’t adopt body cams showed no change.

And there’s more: virtually all of the decline in police homicides was due to reductions in killings of Black and Hispanic suspects. Nor was anything else affected. Arrests stayed at their previous levels, suggesting that body cams didn’t  . . .

Continue reading.

Written by LeisureGuy

4 December 2020 at 2:39 pm

Meals recalled: A.J. Liebeling’s memoir “Between Meals: An Appetite for Paris”

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Let me quote just the first two paragraphs of Liebling’s book:

The Proust madeleine phenomenon is now as firmly established in folklore as Newton’s apple or Watt’s steam kettle. The man ate a tea biscuit, the taste evoked memories, he wrote a book. This is capable of expression by the formula TMB, for Taste > Memory > Book. Some time ago, when I began to read a book called The Food of France, by Waverley Root, I had an inverse experience: BMT, for Book > Memory > Taste. Happily, the tastes that The Food of France re-created for me—small birds, stewed rabbit, stuffed tripe, Côte Rôtie, and Tavel—were more robust than that of the madeleine, which Larousse defines as “a light cake made with sugar, flour, lemon juice, brandy, and eggs.” (The quantity of brandy in a madeleine would not furnish a gnat with an alcohol rub.) In the light of what Proust wrote with so mild a stimulus, it is the world’s loss that he did not have a heartier appetite. On a dozen Gardiners Island oysters, a bowl of clam chowder, a peck of steamers, some bay scallops, three sautéed soft-shelled crabs, a few ears of fresh-picked corn, a thin swordfish steak of generous area, a pair of lobsters, and a Long Island duck, he might have written a masterpiece.

The primary requisite for writing well about food is a good appetite. Without this, it is impossible to accumulate, within the allotted span, enough experience of eating to have anything worth setting down. Each day brings only two opportunities for field work, and they are not to be wasted minimizing the intake of cholesterol. They are indispensable, like a prizefighter’s hours on the road. (I have read that the late French professional gourmand Maurice Curnonsky ate but one meal a day—dinner. But that was late in his life, and I have always suspected his attainments anyway; so many mediocre witticisms are attributed to him that he could not have had much time for eating.) A good appetite gives an eater room to turn around in. For example, a nonprofessional eater I know went to the Restaurant Pierre, in the Place Gaillon, a couple of years ago, his mind set on a sensibly light meal: a dozen, or possibly eighteen, oysters, and a thick chunk of steak topped with beef marrow, which M. Pierre calls a Délice de la Villette—the equivalent of a “Stockyards’ Delight.” But as he arrived, he heard M. Pierre say to his headwaiter, “Here comes Monsieur L. Those two portions of cassoulet that are left—put them aside for him.” A cassoulet is a substantial dish, of a complexity precluding its discussion here. (Mr. Root devotes three pages to the great controversy over what it should contain.) M. Pierre is the most amiable of restaurateurs, who prides himself on knowing in advance what his friends will like. A client of limited appetite would be obliged either to forgo his steak or to hurt M. Pierre’s feelings. Monsieur L., however, was in no difficulty. He ate the two cassoulets, as was his normal practice; if he had consumed only one, his host would have feared that it wasn’t up to standard. He then enjoyed his steak. The oysters offered no problem, since they present no bulk.

Written by LeisureGuy

4 December 2020 at 11:33 am

Posted in Books, Daily life, Food, Memes

CK-6 for the win — with the help of a slant

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Phoenix Artisan’s CK-6 formula, which first appeared in the Doppelgänger series, was for me the first ultra-premium shaving soap I used. Certainly I had used excellent shaving soaps before, but none so deliberately “cost be damned, let’s see what soap can be” — like the Mercedes-Benz automobiles when engineers were in charge before accountants gained the upper hand.

Of course, if costs rise, prices must advance as well, so naturally enough the ultra-premium soaps bear a premium price, but the ones I’ve tried have been worth it to me. Some simpler soaps also charge a premium price — I’m looking at you, Martin — and don’t deliver the same level of experience (but in fact can be somewhat drying in the aftermath of the shave). Price can by driven by mystique as well as by performance.

I used my doppelgängerisch brush — the brush with two interchangeable knots, with the synthetic used this morning — and reveled in the remarkable lather (as much as I could within the confines of the bathroom). The I picked up The Holy Black’s SR-71 slant and removed stubble, leaving my face perfectly smooth after three passes, and wonderfully soft and supple thanks to the ministrations of the soap’s ingredients.

A splash of the aftershave, and I can see the weekend from here.

The sun slants severely at this latitude (though nothing like it does at, say, Burns Lake), and the rays, though bright, are weak. You could sunbathe nude for an hour and not get enough vitamin D from the effort to matter at all. Those who live farther from the equator need vitamin D supplements at least in winter if not year round.

Still, the light is very nice, and at the right is an unmodified photo of the morning set-up using only the light of the sun. I like the colors, so I thought today to include that as well as the Friday special. Enjoy.

Now for a pint of hot tea to enjoy in my Temperfect mug.

Written by LeisureGuy

4 December 2020 at 11:06 am

Posted in Daily life

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