Notes Along the Same Lines As Discussed Previously, in Total Disregard for Promises Made (Apologies); or, Obelisk and Brisket Taco
I would feel remiss in my duties if I left this now-three-part post where I left it at the end of Part the Second. What duties? Good question. For I am a Blogger, and of course have not taken any kind of journalistic hippocratic oath to tell you guys the truth. Suffice it to say that I am trying my best to make this an accurate retelling of what goes on in some jackass's head.
I was talking with a co-worker a few months ago; she claims her mother consistently wins at slot machines in Vegas. Her mother is Catholic and tends to believe there is powerful, mysterious stuff going on all around us (i.e., she believes just the opposite of what I've been trying to argue over the last two posts).
I think my coworker said her mother wins so much at slot machines that it affects her taxes. So I am led to believe that either she has undergone a period of incredible luck, or that something mystical is going on in her life that causes her to do well at slots. There is no reason to discount the former; indeed, it would be extremely difficult to disprove. Were I about to be made privy to the secrets of the universe and all of reality, and a betting man, I would put my money on that explanation. But let's not, for the sake of argument and an interesting (also fair and balanced) blog entry, discount the second possibility.
Those who have played slot machines will acknowledge some protocol for choosing which machine to play. More pattern-seeking players might well choose one that a previous player had good or bad luck at, believing, respectively, that the machine is hot or due. Such players, if more spatially inclined than temporally, might choose a machine close to/far from another winning/losing machine. Superstitious players may of course have any number of personal preferences, such as machines at the end of an aisle, machines painted a certain color, machines near a duck or rabbit of some sort, &c. Players who are neither of the above may only be concerned with proximity to bathrooms, malodorous neighbors, air conditioning vents, &c. Then you have people like me, who so manically disbelieve in supernatural influence that we try to have an anti-protocol.
I get my chips, or nickels, or thing resembling a credit card, or whatever it is I am to put into the machines, and I basically go directly to whichever machine I see first. I try to keep my mind completely clear of anything while this happens, because I staunchly believe there's nothing I can perceive in my surroundings to improve my chances. Of course, I don't try too hard to clear my head, because that itself is difficult, and my belief is that any effort expended trying to select a machine is wasted effort. I wasn't always this way. As a boy at a Sunday school function (ah, church, where so much superstitious behavior is fostered) I selected the cupcake with a jellybean inside out of probably 200, and was crowned king of that night's Christmas-trees-burning festivities. My thought process in selecting the cupcake was meaningfully different from my current slot machine selecting protocol.
Mind you, since that fateful cupcake selection I've become thoroughly convinced that it was just luck. Again, this is just to sum up my entire volume of thought on fate versus luck. So permit me to investigate. . . .
So back in the day I put a lot of thought into games of chance. It's hard to describe what would go through my head; suffice it to say that I would wait until I had developed a feeling that the selection I was about to make was the correct one. One of these cupcakes is it. (Scan the pile.) No - too near the edge. No - icing too fluffy (a ruse, no doubt). No - awkwardly scrunched paper holder-thing. Ah, the one, right there in the middle.
How can I explain further, except to say that there was a pause, a time for deliberation, before my selection? I certainly don't have enough data to support any kind of claim, but I can say, as your faithful Blogger, that as far as games of chance go, I am not as lucky as I used to be. I have never won or broken even at slot machines (now I prefer blackjack, on the rare occasion that I do gamble). When I was younger and more superstitious, I at least won sometimes. And now my co-worker tells me her mother believes in crazy phenomena, psychic energy, omens, or somesuch (I need to talk to her) and she banks so hard the IRS is watching.
The next time I play slots I will take a moment to see if my crusty old brain is not so logic-withered that I am numb to any feelings. I will, of course, report any findings.
I was talking with a co-worker a few months ago; she claims her mother consistently wins at slot machines in Vegas. Her mother is Catholic and tends to believe there is powerful, mysterious stuff going on all around us (i.e., she believes just the opposite of what I've been trying to argue over the last two posts).
I think my coworker said her mother wins so much at slot machines that it affects her taxes. So I am led to believe that either she has undergone a period of incredible luck, or that something mystical is going on in her life that causes her to do well at slots. There is no reason to discount the former; indeed, it would be extremely difficult to disprove. Were I about to be made privy to the secrets of the universe and all of reality, and a betting man, I would put my money on that explanation. But let's not, for the sake of argument and an interesting (also fair and balanced) blog entry, discount the second possibility.
Those who have played slot machines will acknowledge some protocol for choosing which machine to play. More pattern-seeking players might well choose one that a previous player had good or bad luck at, believing, respectively, that the machine is hot or due. Such players, if more spatially inclined than temporally, might choose a machine close to/far from another winning/losing machine. Superstitious players may of course have any number of personal preferences, such as machines at the end of an aisle, machines painted a certain color, machines near a duck or rabbit of some sort, &c. Players who are neither of the above may only be concerned with proximity to bathrooms, malodorous neighbors, air conditioning vents, &c. Then you have people like me, who so manically disbelieve in supernatural influence that we try to have an anti-protocol.
I get my chips, or nickels, or thing resembling a credit card, or whatever it is I am to put into the machines, and I basically go directly to whichever machine I see first. I try to keep my mind completely clear of anything while this happens, because I staunchly believe there's nothing I can perceive in my surroundings to improve my chances. Of course, I don't try too hard to clear my head, because that itself is difficult, and my belief is that any effort expended trying to select a machine is wasted effort. I wasn't always this way. As a boy at a Sunday school function (ah, church, where so much superstitious behavior is fostered) I selected the cupcake with a jellybean inside out of probably 200, and was crowned king of that night's Christmas-trees-burning festivities. My thought process in selecting the cupcake was meaningfully different from my current slot machine selecting protocol.
Mind you, since that fateful cupcake selection I've become thoroughly convinced that it was just luck. Again, this is just to sum up my entire volume of thought on fate versus luck. So permit me to investigate. . . .
So back in the day I put a lot of thought into games of chance. It's hard to describe what would go through my head; suffice it to say that I would wait until I had developed a feeling that the selection I was about to make was the correct one. One of these cupcakes is it. (Scan the pile.) No - too near the edge. No - icing too fluffy (a ruse, no doubt). No - awkwardly scrunched paper holder-thing. Ah, the one, right there in the middle.
How can I explain further, except to say that there was a pause, a time for deliberation, before my selection? I certainly don't have enough data to support any kind of claim, but I can say, as your faithful Blogger, that as far as games of chance go, I am not as lucky as I used to be. I have never won or broken even at slot machines (now I prefer blackjack, on the rare occasion that I do gamble). When I was younger and more superstitious, I at least won sometimes. And now my co-worker tells me her mother believes in crazy phenomena, psychic energy, omens, or somesuch (I need to talk to her) and she banks so hard the IRS is watching.
The next time I play slots I will take a moment to see if my crusty old brain is not so logic-withered that I am numb to any feelings. I will, of course, report any findings.
posted by john at
9:41 AM
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