What’s the catch?

There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one’s safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Orr was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions. Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn’t, but if he were sane he had to fly them. If he flew them he was crazy and didn’t have to; but if he didn’t want to he was sane and had to. Yossarian was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of this clause of Catch-22 and let out a respectful whistle.

(Reblogged from inkv)

Oh, the merry insanity of it all.

Of educated fleas, electric eels, goldfish, and falling in love. Delightful! :)

Oh Yeah? Yeahhh.

  • Mr. Mohra: So, I'm tendin' bar there at Ecklund and Swedlin's last Tuesday, and this little guy's drinkin' and he says, "So where can a guy find some action? I'm goin' crazy out there at the lake." And I says, "What kinda action?" and he says, "Woman action, what do I look like?" And I says, "Well, what do I look like, I don't arrange that kinda thing," and he says, "But I'm goin' crazy out there at the lake," and I says, "Well, this ain't that kinda place."
  • Officer Olson: Uh-huh.
  • Mr. Mohra: So he angrily says, "Oh I get it, so you think I'm some kinda crazy jerk for askin'," only he doesn't use the word "jerk."
  • Olson: I understand.
  • Mr. Mohra: And then he calls me a jerk, and says that the last guy who thought he was a jerk is dead now. So I don't say nothin' and he says, "What do ya think about that?" So I says, "Well, that don't sound like too good a deal for him, then."
  • Olson: [chuckles] Ya got that right.
  • Mr. Mohra: And he says, "Yah, that guy's dead, and I don't mean of old age." And then he says, "Geez, I'm goin' crazy out there at the lake."
  • Olson: White Bear Lake?
  • Mr. Mohra: Well... Ecklund & Swedlin's, that's closer ta Moose Lake, so I made that assumption.
  • Olson: Oh sure.
  • Mr. Mohra: So, ya know, he's drinkin', so I don't think a whole great deal of it, but Mrs. Mohra heard about the homicides down here last week and she thought I should call it in, so... I called it in. End o' story.
  • Olson: What'd this guy look like, anyway?
  • Mr. Mohra: Oh, he was a little guy... Kinda funny lookin'.
  • Olson: Uh-huh. In what way?
  • Mr. Mohra: Oh, just in a general kinda way.

untitled-mag:

Dissecting the Marketing Tricks Built Into Menus

Puzzles, anchors, stars, and plowhorses; those are a few of the terms consultants now use when assembling a menu (which is as much an advertisement as anything else). “A star is a popular, high-profit item—in other words, an item for which customers are willing to pay a good deal more than it costs to make,” Poundstone explains. “A puzzle is high-profit but unpopular; a plowhorse is the opposite, popular yet unprofitable. Consultants try to turn puzzles into stars, nudge customers away from plowhorses, and convince everyone that the prices on the menu are more reasonable than they look.” Poundstone usesBalthazar’s menu to illustrate these ideas.

1. The Upper Right-Hand Corner
That’s the prime spot where diners’ eyes automatically go first. Balthazar uses it to highlight a tasteful, expensive pile of seafood. Generally, pictures of food are powerful motivators but also menu taboos—mostly because they’re used extensively in lowbrow chains like Chili’s and Applebee’s. This illustration “is as far as a restaurant of this caliber can go, and it’s used to draw attention to two of the most expensive orders,” Poundstone says.

2. The Anchor
The main role of that $115 platter—the only three-digit thing on the menu—is to make everything else near it look like a relative bargain, Poundstone says.

3. Right Next Door
At a mere $70, the smaller seafood platter next to Le Balthazar seems like a deal, though there’s no sense of how much food you’re getting. It’s an indefinite comparison that also feels like an indulgence—a win-win for the restaurant.

4. In The Vicinity
The restaurant’s high-profit dishes tend to cluster near the anchor.Here, it’s more seafood at prices that seem comparatively modest.

5. Columns Are Killers
According to Brandon O’Dell, one of the consultants Poundstone quotes in Priceless, it’s a big mistake to list prices in a straight column.“Customers will go down and choose from the cheapest items,” he says. At least the Balthazar menu doesn’t use leader dots to connect the dish to the price; that draws the diner’s gaze right to the numbers. Consultant Gregg Rapp tells clients to “omit dollar signs, decimal points, and cents … It’s not that customers can’t check prices, but most will follow whatever subtle cues are provided.”

6. The Benefit Of Boxes
“A box draws attention and, usually, orders,” Poundstone says. “A really fancy box is better yet. The fromages at the bottom of the menu are probably high-profit puzzles.”

7. Menu Siberia
That’s where low-margin dishes that the regulars like end up. The examples here are the easy-to-miss (and relatively inexpensive) burgers.

8. Bracketing
A regular trick, it’s when the same dish comes in different sizes. Here, that’s done with steak tartare and ravioli—but because “you never know the portion size, you’re encouraged to trade up,” Poundstone says. “Usually the smaller size is perfectly adequate.”

Excerpted from Priceless: The Myth of Fair Value (and How to Take Advantage of It), to be published in January by Hill & Wang, an imprint of Farrar, Straus & Giroux. © 2010 by William Poundstone. All rights reserved.

(Reblogged from untitled-mag)

life:

Movement. Emotion. In sports, both factors are constantly in flux, making the role of — and the challenge faced by — the photographer something of a contradiction: How to capture, freeze, distill that fluid intensity in one signature image?

Over the decades, LIFE photographers embraced that contradiction, and time after time emerged with pictures that illuminated, delighted, and thrilled the magazine’s millions of readers.

Pictured: In this photograph by George Silk, 14-year-old diver Kathy Flicker’s perfect 10-point entry into the waters of a pool at Princeton University’s Dillion Gym. Silk lowered the water level and set up a half-dozen flash units to get this shot.

(see more LIFE at 75 Classic Sports Shots)

(Reblogged from life)