Why is Trader Joe's ridiculously over-packaging its green peppers?

All I want is a couple of green peppers.  I probably won't even put them in a plastic bag, because that's completely unnecessary.  I do not want them on a plastic tray, smothered in plastic wrap.  I don't think anyone does.  It's pointless and wasteful.

The other peppers are just loose.  Is there something about green peppers?  Do they combust spontaneously when exposed to air?  Do they emit some kind of specially virulent contagion?

Why are the Rangers and Cardinals in the World Series?

The main problem with the Rangers is that they're not the Tigers.  Look, Justin Verlander was, as you know, an absolute machine this year, and it is sad for baseball that he does not get to pitch every other game of the World Series (because he almost could, that's how awesome he is).  I like to see pitching win championships, so this one so far is a disappointment.  And then there's Josh Hamilton.  The man claimed he was in a slump because he has blue eyes and can't see the ball in the sun.  I don't care if it's true; you're not the only blue-eyed player in the majors; maybe you just ain't hittin'; stop whining.  Also, nobody cares about your hernia.

The Cardinals...well, I just don't like 'em.  Marc Rzepsczynski needs to buy a vowel (or sell a consonant) and Jon Jay needs to go back to the eighteenth century where he belongs.  And, of course, they beat the Phillies (after we let them into the postseason by sweeping the Braves...baseball, you can be awfully cruel).

Plus, if the Phillies were in the World Series, Game 6 would not have been postponed, because tonight in Philadelphia is a beautiful night for baseball.

Why have women bought into compliment inflation?

If a woman tells you "you look great," she means "well, at least you haven't vomited on yourself yet, and you're wearing pants."  And if you don't tell her that she looks great in return, she will interpret this as: "Either I have vomited on myself, or this person is a terrible person, or both."  So then, in order to assure each other that you are earnest in your praise, you strike out into the world of staggering hyperbole, and come up with something like, "You look so stylish and fantastically wonderful, just like Katharine Hepburn on a good day!"  This is especially appropriate if your interlocutor is a brunette and dresses like Zooey Deschanel, if Zooey Deschanel didn't have a stylist and actually dressed from the Salvation Army.

This is ridiculous.

I recommend that we stay in the realms of politeness, of course.  "Hello, dear, how well you look" will always be applicable.  But if we could save "you look great" for when people actually look great, we wouldn't get into this insane, insincere compliment arms race.  As a bonus, we would lie to each other less, which is an end to be desired.

Why does candy corn exist?

I take issue with both "candy" and "corn."

It doesn't look like corn, unless it's some sort of vampire giant Roy Rogers corn.  Have you ever seen striped corn?  With kernels the size of a Rottweiler's canines?  Didn't think so.

Also, it tastes like the unholy union of chalk and wax.  Candy is supposed to taste like childhood and sunshine.  Or at least like sugar.

Blech.

Why are motorists jackwagons?

I've almost been killed twice on my bike this week, and only one of them was my fault, so this is all I can muster.

Look where you're going, asshole.

Why is Tom Hardy now in all the movies?

Look, his name provokes flashbacks from horrifically depressing fiction trips, he looks greasy all the time, and he seems like a total creeper.  He's probably a lovely person, but he looks like the back end of a cab and, as we all know, my necessary (if not sufficient) condition for films is that they have good-looking men in them, so do us a favor, film industry, and find someone else.

Why does caramel burn so quickly?

The sugar has been boiling and bubbling for what seems like hours but is possibly only twelve minutes.  The recipe says it should be deep amber in ten minutes.  It's not; in fact, it's still clear.

A hint of color?  Nope, false alarm.  Still clear.  Still bubbling.

But now...now it's turning slightly golden.  Lovely.  Soon, there will be car--

Oh, god, it's on fire.

Why are pedestrians so deeply incompetent?

Yes, you have the right-of-way.  In a crosswalk, with the light.  Not at other times.  Once you meander outside the crosswalk and amble randomly in the middle of the road, everyone is duty-bound to knock you over.  Also, if you are sound of body, you have to walk at a reasonable speed, even if you're in the crosswalk.

If you jaywalk, you have assumed the risks.  By stepping into the road without the right-of-way, you have taken responsibility for ensuring that you will not be hit; that is, you have timed your crossing so that automobiles do not have to change either their speed or trajectory.  If that means you have to run, you run.  This is how it works.  This is the jaywalker's contract.

Move it or lose it.

Why don't pedestrians press the button?

Yes, in much of Manhattan, the button is a lie.  But, in Manhattan, the traffic lights know that there will always be people walking, and they will change without being asked.  There, pressing the button is a mere placebo.

This is not true in many other places.  In many places, the light will actually not change until you hit the button (or a car approaches).  And yet, I watch so many pedestrians stand there, get miffed, and then jaywalk, risking their lives.  Watching their tiny, impotent, asinine rage is the best part.  I mean, they could help themselves so easily, but they are too stupid.

Why have women relinquished the moral high ground?

Your classic bachelor party is not classy.  Women are objectified, men are boors.  The correct response of the civilized person--man or woman--is revulsion and censure.

The correct response is not for women turn around and have parties at which they objectify men and act like boors.  What is the appeal in a race to the bottom?  Why mimic many of the things that are worst about men?  Why rob yourself of any standing to complain about gross behavior?  If it's sordid for men to do it, it's sordid for women to do it.  "If you can't beat them, join them" is not applicable here; your nostalgie de la boue can go hang.

This is not an argument that women should desire to be or turn themselves into Victorian plaster saints, nor that men should.  I merely state that the objectification of any person is disgusting, and that humans have a responsibility to themselves and to each other not to be disgusting.  I will not back down on this.

(N.B.  I am aware of many bachelor parties and have attended bachelorette* parties that are not appalling.  I'm just saying that all of them should be not appalling.

* A barbarous neologism, yes.  However, as it signifies a silly and unnecessary invention, I will let it stand.)

Why does that Prius ad have the giant person made out of people?

Do you know what is rapidly climbing my list of least favorite things?  Sure, it's still below appletinis, Natalie Portman, and the Pittsburgh Steelers, but it's rocketing upwards.

It is: a giant face made out of a bunch of bizarrely clad human beings, with someone's posterior in flesh-colored jeans pretending to be the nose.

So off-putting.  Who agreed to this?  What were the advertising people smoking?  I mean, I know you don't have to pay the guy very much if it's just his rear end on camera, but it is also super weird!  It's "Cirque du Soleil: Toyota."  It's every bad dance troupe at every university, only with sensible dungarees.

I'm not in the market for a Prius, but I'm on my way to buy the hideous new Mini out of spite.

Why is The Mill on the Floss so drear?

I had purposely taken a break from Thomas Hardy, to avoid the unremitting misery.  I had thought to take solace in the usually reliable reasonableness of George Eliot.  In George Eliot, people love in vain, and sometimes they die, and sometimes they are morons like Hetty Sorrel, but as a rule things work out for most people in the end.

So thanks, George Eliot, for Maggie's creepy fixation with Tom, and for Philip's deformity and morbidity, and for Stephen's profound idiocy.  Thanks also for Maggie's uselessness to both young men, and for the flood.  And thanks most of all for your depressing, wet foreshadowing.

If I wanted to read about people drowning and having apoplexies and being generally the worst, I would go back to Thomas Hardy.