Hieronymo Girolamo

If we look to the saints, this great luminous wake with which
God has passed through history, we truly see
that here is a force for good.

— Pope Benedict XVI

Despite being raised a Roman Catholic, I struggle—as most Americans do—with believers.

Believers who practice what they preach have my admiration; but far too often your garden-variety believer turns out to have worse moral failings than the rest of us. He just doesn't know it.

I'm also not sanguine about church leaders; the opaque and bizarre organizations they run; or about the wily ways they exploit weakness and ressentiment.

More than most Americans, when it comes to religion's role in society, I tend to agree with Napoleon: "Religion is what keeps the poor from murdering the rich."

Saints, nonetheless, captivate me.

The Catholic Church recognizes over 10,000 of them.

Saints are venerated by the church for "heroic sanctity." They're history's first responders, only with missals. 

And saints are often "patrons"—sponsors of causes and cities and professions, and guardians of individuals when they're caught in a bind.

Catholics celebrate saints' feast days, take their names at confirmation, and pray to them when they're wanting. 

Saints' life stories are generally fascinating.

One of the 10,000 saints I just discovered is Hieronymo Girolamo, St. Francis of Jerome.

A Jesuit in the 17th century, Hieronymo spent 40 years of his life preaching in the rural areas surrounding Naples, where his sermons would draw as many as 15,000 listeners.

His followers said he had god's gift on the soapbox and would often drag sinners before him, so they could hear his outdoor sermons. He spoke of the wickedness of sins, the need for repentance, the suddenness of death, the tortures of hell, and the salvation in Jesus.

Hieronymo spoke 40 times a day, always choosing streets and crossroads where recent crimes had been committed. Whenever he concluded, the crowd would crush forward to kiss his hand or touch his garments and beg forgiveness of their sins. 

"He is a lamb when he talks, but a lion when he preaches," listeners said, "not a mere mortal, but an angel expressly sent to save souls."

Hieronymo also earned a reputation for miracle-working—a requirement for sainthood.

He was said to have received communion directly from Jesus Christ. He was also witnessed asking a prostitute's corpse where its inhabitant was and receiving the answer, "I'm in Hell!"

Hieronymo preached in the streets until the age of 73. "As long as I keep a breath of life I will go on," he said. "Even if dragged through the streets, I will thank God. A pack animal must die under its bundle."

He died in 1716 and was canonized 123 years later.

By my count, Hieronymo delivered well over 670,000 sermons during his lifetime.

Quousque Tandem?

For how much longer, Catiline, will you abuse our patience?

— Cicero

Fox News cut off Trump last night when he attributed Putin's invasion of Ukraine to the "big steal."

"Putin was going to be satisfied with a peace, and now he sees the weakness and the incompetence and the stupidity of this administration, and as an American, I'm angry about it, and I'm saddened by it, and it all happened because of a rigged election."

Interviewer Laura Ingraham cut off Trump at this point and jumped to another story. She returned to Trump minutes later, only to get into an argument with him.

We can only hope media companies—even propagandist ones like Fox News—have lost patience with Trump's bullshit.

It would not be the first time a popular figure was silenced by broadcasters.

In November 1938, radio stations nationwide banned Father Charles Coughlin, a Nazi-sympathizing Catholic priest with 30 million avid American listeners, after he denied during his weekly broadcast that Kristallnacht had hurt Germany's Jews. (He claimed it only targeted Communists.)

The stations insisted the airwaves could not tolerate Coughlin's intolerance—an abuse of the freedom of speech. Without a platform, the Nazi-loving Coughlin soon vanished from the public forum.

In November 63 BC, Rome's consul Cicero convened the senate in order to lay before it a plot to overthrow the Roman Republic.

The plot's leader, the corrupt Senator Catiline, sat in the gallery as Cicero delivered his First Speech against Catilina, one of history's greatest political orations. It opens:

Quo usque tandem abutere, Catilina, patientia nostra? Quam diu etiam furor iste tuus nos eludet? Quem ad finem sese effrenata iactabit audacia? 

For how much longer, Catiline, will you abuse our patience? How much longer will your madness make playthings of us? When will your unbridled effrontery stop swaggering?

Quo usque tandem abutere, Trump, patientia nostra?

Shake Your Booty

The filibuster is an effort to talk something to death.

— Sen. Dick Durbin

The filibuster is a Senate procedure invoked by the minority party to "pirate" a popular bill.

This act of piracy used to be difficult, but no longer. 

Until 1975, senators could block a bill only through the “talking filibuster.” Today, they can call for a "virtual" one. No one need talk. 

Joe Biden wants Senators to filibuster like they did "in the old days," talking until they're exhausted. Republicans disagree.

Hard or easy, piracy lies at the very heart of the filibuster.

Filibuster derives from flibustier, the 17th century French word for "pirate." A 1684 memoir by buccaneer John Oexmelin popularized the word in America.

By the 1850s—when Manifest Destiny was on everyone's mind—militia leaders like William Walker were called filibusters. (If there's something strange in your neighborhood who you gonna call?) To filibuster meant to wage a private war; a filibuster was an insurrectionist.

Three decades later, the filibuster was formally introduced in the Senate. Southern obstructionists would use it to "pirate" debates over civil rights bills, spurring ruthless, minority-led "insurrections."

Filibuster is closely related to freebooter, derived from the 16th century Dutch vrijbuiter, meaning "plunderer." Vrijbuit meant "free booty." Booty derived from the 14th century French butin, meaning "plunder taken from an enemy in war." And boot derived from the 11th century German busse, meaning "penance."

Today we call pirates "freebooters."

Herbert Hoover 2.0

In America today we are nearer a final triumph over
poverty than in any land.

— Herbert Hoover

We’re turning the corner. Look at this, it’s perfect.

— Donald Trump

In a campaign speech in October 1932, Herbert Hoover celebrated America's triumph over poverty, even though 15 million citizens were jobless and 1.2 million homeless.

In a campaign speech in October 2020, Donald Trump celebrated America's triumph over Covid-19, even though 12 million citizens were jobless, 34 million faced homelessness, and 225 thousand lay in fresh graves.

And Hoover's campaign slogan in 1932?

"We are turning the corner."

Nihil novi sub sole.

UPDATE, JANUARY 8, 2021:  This week, Trump has joined Hoover in losing the presidency and both chambers of Congress. No president since Hoover has done that.

Gasbagging

The fewer the words, the truer the words.

— Robert Brault

Logorrhea, the gasbag's debility, eventually becomes our affliction as well.

That's because, through his torrent of words, the gasbag seeks to divert us from the inconvenient truth.

We often hear, in regard to politicians, talk about gaslighting; we hear much less about gasbagging.

Gasbagging—bloviating to distract and cover up—has become the weapon of choice for many politicos, especially ones on the right. Personally speaking, I can't stomach the tactic. I associate it with bullies and con men.

George Orwell warned against gasbagging in his essay Politics and the English Language. 

"The great enemy of clear language is insincerity," Orwell said. 

When confronted by an inconvenient truth, the insincere gasbag—then deny they're "playing politics" when that's precisely what they're doing.

"In our age there is no such thing as ‘keeping out of politics,’" Orwell says. "All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred, and schizophrenia."

"The fewer the words, the better the prayer," Martin Luther said. I like that formula.

So, let us pray: 

Lord, make them SHUT UP.

Amen.

Fake Muse

It is a good thing for an uneducated man to read books of quotations.

— Winston Churchill

When the going gets tough, the tough post quotes.

Many folks I follow on Instagram, Facebook and LinkedIn are forever posting these pith-packets, proving our appetites for the keenly-said are insatiable.

Ward Farnsworth, dean of the U. of Texas law school, calls quotations "little triumphs of rhetoric."

Quotations can give us solace, change our thinking, and move us to act. 

"Quotations when engraved upon the memory give you good thoughts," Churchill said.

But what if a quote is bullshit?

Can it still inspire?

The answer is: yes, it can inspire, at least, some of us. 

In a study of 280 people, behavioral scientists at the University of Regina presented subjects 10 randomly generated "pseudo-profound bullshit statements" (faux quotations attributed to Deepak Chopra, such as, "Imagination is inside exponential space time events”). They asked them to rate each statement's profundity on a scale of 1 to 10. The study concluded that, the more gullible we are—the higher the profundity score we give the fake statements—the higher our "bullshit receptivity.”

Highly gullible people, according to the study, are not only susceptible to bullshit, but are "less reflective, lower in cognitive ability, more prone to ontological confusions and conspiratorial ideas, more likely to hold religious and paranormal beliefs, and more likely to endorse complementary and alternative medicine."

You need not be gullible, however, to be taken in by a fake muse. Lots of quotations are counterfeit.

Here are my own 10 randomly generated samples:

"Nuts."

When General Anthony McAuliffe was asked to surrender his command at Bastogne, he purportedly sent that one-word reply to his German counterpart; but in fact he replied, "Bullshit." Newspapers couldn't print a profanity in 1944.

"Follow the money."

Deep Throat never advised Woodward and Bernstein this way. Screenwriter William Goldman invented the quotation for "All the President's Men."

“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”

Albert Einstein never said this. It comes from AA.

“I have just begun to fight.”

Eyewitnesses indeed heard John Paul Jones shouting at the British, "No quarter!" from his perch on the BonHomme Richard. But never this. A writer invented the quotation 50 years after the fight.

"Play it again, Sam."

Rick Blaine (played by Humphrey Bogart) never uttered these words in the 1942 film "Casablanca." Woody Allen fabricated the line when titling his 1969 play.

“Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”

Sigmund Freud smoked 20 cigars a day and would never have bad-mouthed the habit. The quotation comes from another psychoanalyst's footnote to a 1950 article he wrote for the journal Psychiatry.

"Let them eat cake."

Jean Jacques Rousseau, not Marie Antoinette, said this. He wrote it in his diary when the future French queen was only 13, single, and living in Austria. Rousseau attributed the line to Maria Theresa of Spain, who a century earlier had been told by her advisors the local peasants had no bread. "If they have no bread, let them eat cake," she replied. But the Jacobins laid the quote on Marie Antoinette at her trial.

“Nice guys finish last.” 

Leo Durocher was asked by a sportswriter what he thought of the 1946 New York Giants. Durocher said, “Take a look at them. All nice guys. They’ll finish last. Nice guys who'll finish last.” The reporter omitted "who'll."

"Winning isn't everything; it's the only thing."

Vince Lombardi liked to say, "Winning isn't a sometime thing; it's an all-the-time thing," a motto he stole from another football coach, "Red" Sanders. Reporters always tightened the statement.

"The harder he works, the luckier he gets."

Donald Trump never said this—about himself or anyone else. Sam Goldwyn said, "The harder I work, the luckier I get," paraphrasing an adage he saw in Reader's Digest.

So I hope you're inspired to question everything. In the immortal words of Buddha:

“Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.”

By the way, Buddha never said that.



NOTE: Read a bit more about the faux quotations editors call "quilt quotes."

Why Being a Bore Will Wreck Your Career

It is vain to do more with what can be done with less.

― William of Occam

"Don't be a bore," says 17th-century Jesuit Baltasar Gracián.

Talking overmuch is a sign of vanity.

"Brevity flatters and does better business," Gracián says. "It gains by courtesy what it loses by curtness. Good things, when short, are twice as good."

Worse, talking overmuch is a sign of ineptness.

"It is a well-known truth that talkative folk rarely have much sense," Gracián continues. Talkative folk are "stumbling stones" and "useless lumber in everyone's way."

Useful folks get right to the point. "The wise avoid being bores, especially to the great, who are fully occupied: it is worse to disturb one of them than all the rest. Well said is soon said."

Darkest Hour

England's policy of "appeasement"―letting Hitler grab neighboring lands with impunity―provides the backstory of Darkest Hour, the new biopic about Churchill and Chamberlain.

As we watch the media under attack by right-wing Republicans, Churchill's warnings about the dangers to freedom of the press are as relevant today as they were in his time.

And so are his actions to sidestep thought control.

During the 1930s, Chamberlain favored appeasement, for an extremely practical reason: his party's rule hinged on the votes of working-class Britons, who opposed foreign entanglements and distrusted war profiteers (after all, they'd paid the price for militarism in the previous war against Germany).

In 1938, Chamberlain signed an accord with Hitler labeled the Munich Agreement, which let the Führer annex part of Czechoslovakia if he agreed to stop seizing more territory. Most Britons praised Chamberlain's coup; but of course it didn't stop Hitler, who provoked war with England a year later, when he invaded Poland. The pacifist Chamberlain proved within eight months an inept wartime leader, opening the door for Churchill's appointment by the king as his successor (the first scene of Darkest Hour).

Chamberlain's most fiery critic, Churchill had spent years protesting appeasement, using his favorite soapbox: the newspaper op-ed. When Chamberlain―in keeping with the Munich Agreement―moved to stifle all opposition to Hitler, he ruled out critical speeches in Parliament and threatened the newspapers with shutdown, citing national secrecy laws. Churchill, in response, promised to take his message to the streets.

In a November 1938 speech before the national press club, Churchill wondered aloud whether Chamberlain wouldn't rather live in a totalitarian state. "In those states they conduct foreign policy on the basis that the press say nothing but what it is told, and immediately say what it is told. It might be very convenient, no doubt, if we could suppress public opinion here, and everything was allowed to go on quietly without our knowing what was going on outside."

Churchill suggested England was in fact already experiencing a press blackout. With appeasement's critics in Parliament muzzled and the press censored, Chamberlain enjoyed carte blanch to bamboozle Britons. 

The situation left opponents like Churchill one choice: to resist the government's policy through the "public platform." And resist Churchill did. 

Between September 1938―when the Munich Agreement was signed―and September 1939―when Germany invaded Poland―Churchill spoke against appeasement relentlessly on the radio. He also repackaged 80 of his op-eds into a book―which became an immediate best-seller―and, with financial help from silent backers, erected billboards calling for his appointment to Chamberlain's cabinet. 

Churchill's cabinet appointment did come, three days after Hitler entered Poland and simultaneously with England's declaration of war with Germany.

Is Succinct Extinct?

You can argue for long-form content 'til you're blue in the face.

You're still wrong.

In 1647, the Jesuit Baltazar Gracián explained why:

Don't be a bore.

The man of one business or of one topic is apt to be heavy. Brevity flatters and does better business; it gains by courtesy what it loses by curtness. Good things, when short, are twice as good. The quintessence of the matter is more effective than a whole farrago of details. It is a well-known truth that talkative folk rarely have much sense whether in dealing with the matter itself or its formal treatment. There are that serve more for stumbling-stones than centerpieces, useless lumber in everyone's way. The wise avoid being bores, especially to the great, who are fully occupied: it is worse to disturb one of them than all the rest. Well said is soon said.

Write for readers, not Google.

The 3-Minute Machiavelli

Master these techniques and rule the world.

Ad hominem. Attacking your opponent, as opposed to his position.

Ad nauseam. Attempting to persuade by endlessly repeating an idea.

Appeal to authority. Citing prominent people to support your position.

Appeal to fear. Creating unwarranted anxieties to support your position.

Appeal to prejudice. Using emotive terms to associate moral goodness with your position.

Bandwagon. Attempting to persuade by arguing "everybody shares my position."

Beautiful people. Attempting to persuade by claiming attractive people share your position.

Big Lie. Attempting to persuade by repeating a fiction. 

Black-and-white fallacy. Attempting to persuade by oversimplifying possibilities.

Cherry picking. Attempting to persuade by selectively telling the truth.

Common man. Attempting to persuade by claiming "plain folks" agree with your position.

Cult of personality. Attempting to persuade by flattering yourself.

Demonizing. Attempting to persuade by painting your opponent as a monster.

Disinformation. Attempting to persuade by forgery or by deleting official records.

Euphemism. Attempting to persuade by disguising unpleasantries with innocuous words.

Euphoria. Leveraging morale-boosting spectacles, holidays or handouts to persuade.

Exaggeration. Attempting to persuade through hyperboles.

Fear, uncertainty, and doubt (FUD). Attempting to persuade by disseminating mis- or disinformation that undermines your opponent.

Flag-waving. Attempting to persuade by proclaiming your patriotism.

Framing. Attempting to persuade by artfully controlling public narrative.

Gaslighting. Attempting to persuade by sowing doubt, denying facts, or misdirecting your audience.

Gallopbombing. Attempting to persuade by asking an opponent difficult questions in rapid fire, making them look uninformed.

Glittering generalities. Attempting to persuade by using emotionally appealing words without substance.

Guilt by association (reductio ad Hitlerum). Attempting to persuade by suggesting an opponent's position resembles that of someone we despise.

Intentional vagueness. Attempting to persuade by remaining fuzzy.

Labeling. Attempting to diminish your opponent by using a single word or phrase.

Loaded language. Attempting to persuade by using strongly emotional words.

Lying. Attempting to persuade through deceptions.

Managing the news. Attempting to persuade by "staying on message."

Minimization. Attempting to persuade by denying the implications of a fact.

Name calling. Attempting to persuade through bad names.

Non sequitur. Attempting to persuade with illogical arguments.

Obfuscation. Attempting to persuade with confusing generalities and undefined words and phrases.

Oversimplification. Attempting to persuade with simple answers to complex questions.

Pensée unique. Attempting to persuade with a single overly simplistic phrase.

Quotes out of context. Attempting to persuade by editing your opponent's statements.

Rationalization. Attempting to persuade by sugar-coating your own questionable acts and beliefs.

Red herring. Attempting to persuade by citing a compelling, but irrelevant, fact, and claiming it validates your position.

Repetition. Attempting to persuade by repeating a slogan.

Scapegoating. Attempting to persuade by assigning blame to an individual or group.

Slogan. Attempting to persuade with a striking phrase.

Stereotyping. Attempting to persuade by labeling an opponent and her followers in ways that arouse prejudice.

Straw man. Attempting to persuade by misrepresenting, and refuting, your opponent's position.

Testimonial. Attempting to persuade with others' glowing statements about you.

Third-party technique. Attempting to persuade by asking your followers to accept as authoritative the opinions of others, such as celebrities, soldiers, preachers, journalists, and scientists.

Thought-terminating cliché. Attempting to persuade with an over-used folk wisdom.

Transfer. Attempting to persuade by superimposing one or more images on others.

Unstated assumption. Attempting to persuade by avoiding disclosure of your ridiculously incredible assumption.

Virtue words. Attempting to persuade with high-minded, flowery words.

Defense of the Indefensible

In our time, political speech and writing are
largely the defense of the indefensible.

— George Orwell

As powerful as threats of violence, authoritarians wield words, Orwell taught us.

They dress up their psychotic plans in stale metaphors, hoping to make us fear things that aren't dangers, and dismiss things that are.

Banalities like fake news and job killers are used to discredit problems, while canards like innovation, fair trade and healthcare access masquerade as solutions.

Fake news. "The fake news media is not my enemy, it is the enemy of the American people," President Trump repeatedly says. In reality, Macedonian teenagers and other black hats generate fake news; The New York Times does not. But by declaring all news "fake," Trump can in two words cast doubt not only on unwelcomed news reports, but on poll results, census data, economic studies, and scientific findings.

Job killers. Trump labels all government regulations "job killers" without regard to data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics that shows only two tenths of one percent of job losses result from regulations. Job losses, in fact, result from long-term and seasonal business declines, financial mismanagement, and changes in ownership. But by rescinding "job killers," Trump can assist scheming real estate developers, hedge fund managers, chemical and refinery company owners, and Fortune 100 CEOs.

Innovation. "The government should be run like a great American company," Trump insists. That means stripping non-defense programs and outsourcing activities like public education, prison administration, drug addiction treatment, and veterans' healthcare. Trump ignores the fact that a lot of private-sector innovation is bolted onto government innovation. He's appointed his son-in-law to run his vulture fund, the "White House Office of American Innovation."

Fair trade. “I’m not sure that we have any good trade deals,” Trump has said, and plans to cancel or renegotiate every deal he thinks is "unfair" to the US. But "fair trade" is merely a euphemism for protectionism, the enemy of free trade. Research by the US International Trade Commission shows our membership in the World Trade Organization, for example, has doubled trade, creating new and bigger markets for American exporters and cheaper goods for American shoppers. But Trump ignores that.

Healthcare access. Trump's system to replace Obamacare would force people with pre-existing conditions into "risk pools." Healthcare premiums for those people would cost considerably more than everyone else's. The fact remains, while risk pools would lower premiums for well people, they'd make sick people's premiums unaffordable. They'd enjoy "healthcare access" in the same sense poor people can enjoy views of the greens by gazing through the fences around any Trump golf course.

What's the best defense against ready-made drivel?

Periodic reminders of your humanity.

As Orwell's contemporary Aldous Huxley said, “The propagandist’s purpose is to make one set of people forget that certain other sets of people are human.”

Give and Take

There are only two types of speakers in the world: the givers and the takers.

Why the takers don't "get it" mystifies.

You can plug your ears and still spot a taker by observing his audience. Everyone's mobile comes out within the first 120 seconds.

"Reputation is everything," Chris Anderson says in TED Talks.

"You want to build a reputation as a generous person, bringing something wonderful to your audiences, not as a tedious self-promoter. It's boring and frustrating to be pitched to, especially when you're expecting something else."

TED actively discourages speakers even from subtle pitches, such as mentioning a funding shortfall or using a book as a prop.

Anderson compares the encounter with a taker at a conference to the coffee break you agree to have with a friend who within minutes reveals she wants to tell you all about her "must-invest time-share scheme."

Giving, on the other hand, evokes a response. Delivering stories, insights, humor and revelations leaves audiences ready to buy.

Neither Captious Nor Weasly Be

When it comes to customers, don't be captious. Niggling gets you nowhere.

How many times have you contacted sales or customer service, only to be informed you've called the wrong line? Or told to fill out some online form first? Or made to feel a fool, because you don't know if you have Version 4.2?

When conversing with a customer, be sensible and humble. To show off your knowledge blunts your effectiveness.

And when it comes to customers, don't weasel. Weaseling destroys trust.

If you need to make a point with a customer, make it clearly, concisely, candidly.

How many times have you contacted sales or customer service, only to be informed the price isn't actually available, the product doesn't really work, the warranty is never, ever applicable? "You'd have known that, if you'd seen the fine print."

When conversing with a customer, be sincere and straightforward. To squirm out of every promise makes you a weasel. And the weasel is a threatened species.

Never. Never. Never.

The Bowling Green Massacre never took place.

And neither did the five-second commencement speech by Winston Churchill, who allegedely rose before his alma mater in 1941 and said, “Never give up, never give up, never give up,” and sat down.

The Internet nourishes "alternative facts."

Churchill in reality spoke 740 words to the students of the Harrow School, including these:

Never give in, never give in, never, never, never, in nothing, great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy. We stood all alone a year ago, and to many countries it seemed that our account was closed, we were finished. All this tradition of ours, our songs, our school history, this part of the history of this country, were gone and finished and liquidated.

Very different is the mood today. Britain, other nations thought, had drawn a sponge across her slate. But instead our country stood in the gap. There was no flinching and no thought of giving in; and by what seemed almost a miracle to those outside these islands, though we ourselves never doubted it, we now find ourselves in a position where I say that we can be sure that we have only to persevere to conquer.

Never give in, never give in, never, never, never.

Opinions are my own.

Don't be a Blabbermouth

No matter the forum, choose your words wisely.

That's the advice of 17th century Jesuit Balthasar Gracian in The Art of Worldly Wisdom.

"There is always time to add a word, never to withdraw one," Gracian says.

So be prudent when you speak, particularly when your audience doesn't agree with you; and, when it does, speak only "for the sake of appearance."

"Talk as if you were making your will: the fewer words, the less litigation."

And make good use of everyday conversation, because every encounter is another chance to rehearse for "more weighty matters of speech."

Blabbermouths don't have much future, Gracian says. 

"He who speaks lightly soon falls or fails."

PRUDENT DISCLAIMER: Opinions are my own.

Nerves

The amateur believes he must first overcome his fear; then he
can do his work. The professional knows that fear can never be overcome.

— Steven Pressfield 

Henry Fonda vomited before every performance he ever delivered.

Nerves never leave some of us.

Nerves are normal.

Nerves can make us better players.

Should a Speaker Ever Break the Fourth Wall?

Aristotle advised every speaker to use pathos (feeling) to cater to listeners' "sense of identity, their self-interest, and their emotions."

But it's not enough to open with "My fellow Americans," as politicians do.

Sometimes it's smart for a speaker to break the "fourth wall" by letting listeners in on the secret that he or she isn't 100% "on the podium."

Twenty-five years ago, two media studies researchers discovered audience participation—a key index of audience interest—increases when a TV show character breaks the fourth wall, acknowledging he's fictional by suddenly interacting with the audience.

"That interactive relationship redefines the normally passive relationship with a given show and makes the viewers a part of the action," the researchers said.

The research proved TV shows that broke the fourth wall not only gripped audiences, but shot up viewers' charts for their "entertainment value" and "content sophistication."

Analogously, speakers who self-efface are much more popular than those who don't, says Chris Anderson, curator of TED.

“Some people come on full of ego and want to boast about their accomplishments or they tell a story that’s just designed to show off,” Anderson says. "That doesn’t work, and audiences push back on that. 

"What works is people who really have something important to say, and that they’ve done the work. They’ve earned the right to say something that matters, and they’ve found a way of saying it authentically and humbly.”

Sharknado!

Americans' panic over sharks dates to July 1916, when man-eaters killed four bathers at the Jersey Shore.

"The New Jersey shark attacks sent a message to Americans," says Matt McCall in National Geographic. "They said the ocean is still wild."

The shark attacks took a bite out of hotel occupancy that July—and President Woodrow Wilson's vote-count when he stood for reelection four months later.

The former New Jersey governor lost 10 percent of the votes he expected everywhere an attack occurred.

When fear guides the lever, voters say "No."

It may be a stupid reaction to a horror show, but it isn't an irrational one.

It's instinctual, according to Rick Shenkman, author of Political Animals: How Our Brain Gets in the Way of Smart Politics.

Shenkman says our Pleistocene-era brains simply can't handle twenty-first-century politics.

“There’s a mismatch between the brains we inherited from the Stone Age, when mankind lived in small communities, and the brain we need to deal with challenges we face in a democratic society consisting of millions of people.”

When you're knee-deep in shark-infested waters, instinct kicks in.

Wily politicians know that, and exploit it.

They know higher-order thinking only takes place from the safety of the cave.

How to Enter on a High Note

Two German psychologists arranged an experiment.

They asked respondents to watch a video of violinists and judge their talent.

Respondents gave the highest marks to the violinists who nodded at the audience—before performing.

"Stage performers are the consummate experts in making a grand entrance," Susan Krauss Whitbourne says in Psychology Today.

"Even classical musicians, whom you might think of as controlling impressions by their ability to perform the piece, control the audience’s reaction to their work by the way they first make their appearance in the concert hall."

Dr. Whitbourne offers these eight tips for making good first impressions:

Decide how grand your entrance should be. Tread lightly, especially in informal situations and those in which you know everyone present.

Be prompt. Don’t be the last to enter the room, if you want to appear reliable. It also helps to welcome others with a smile and handshake.

Show the appropriate emotion. Serious occasions demand a display of gravitas; parties, a show of pleasantness; negotiations, a poker face.

Pause to gather your thoughts. You'll benefit from a momentary mental rundown of what you’re hoping to accomplish in the situation.

Look around at the people in the room. Take your cue from the violinists: return people's gazes and nod at your audience.

Determine when you’re not the center of attention. When you're not the big cheese, be dignified, not grand.

Look like you’re glad to be there. You might dread the occasion, but if you show anxiety or disdain, you guarantee a bad outcome.

Don’t fret a botched opening. You trip as you walk onto the stage. You drop all your notes. You skip immediately to your last slide. The teleprompter breaks. "Oops moments" are common—and recoverable, if you don't willow. Just smile and get on with the show.