Horror Movies that Ruin Childhood, Hot Dogs, Overbearing Grandmothers, and Shoddy Sleep Research
Horror Movies that Ruin Childhood, Hot Dogs, Overbearing Grandmothers, and Shoddy Sleep Research
Plus a Fantastic Book Recommendation and Strategy to Fight Misinformation
No horror movie scared me more as a child than “When a Stranger Calls.” At around 10 years old, it became a staple of late night television. As a latchkey kid in the 80’s, parental oversight was minimal - no one monitored what you watched or read. And we fucking loved it!
The plot was nightmare-inducing: a babysitter, tormented by repeated calls, discovers the stalker is inside the house, calling from a second line. This chilling twist induced a mind virus. When my twin brother and I babysat kids on the block, our first task after the parents left was to arm ourselves. Not with guns or knives, but rolling pins, cast iron skillets, and meat tenderizers. This was our suburban battleground.
Consider this an awkward segway to my home. I convinced my grandmother to only have one land line to prevent murderers from contacting us. Unbeknownst to me, this backfired. My grandmother often listened in, convinced I was a heavy drug user.
One morning, as I ate Captain Crunch cereal (1986 was not the year of clean eating), my grandmother loomed behind me and whispered, “What’s the stuff?” The absurdity of the scene made me laugh. “The stuff? Grandma, you have to give me a little more information.” Like a seasoned street cop, she pressed on, “You know what I’m talking about. I heard you on the phone with Martin. Meet me at the 7-11. Tonight, we get the stuff. What stuff?” I turned around, pursed my lips to stifle another laugh, and stared at her. If you’ve watched Curb Your Enthusiasm, you know the stare.
“You give me your best guess at what the stuff is.”
“Drugs! You think I don’t know you use drugs! Look at you.”
At this point, as my Captain Crunch morsels turned to mush, she presented her irrefutable evidence.
Martin and I often referenced “the stuff.” Why speak in such cryptic terms unless we were hiding something significant?
My eyes were perpetually bloodshot, indistinguishable from any news story of users.
I stashed money in my socks, ensuring quick access for making deals.
Case closed, according to Selma Figer. But after a few gulps of my Hershey’s strawberry milk (more poor dietary choices in 1986) I offered an alternative explanation. Martin and I frequented the local 7-11 for hot dogs. Embarrassed by our low-brow indulgence, we never mentioned it publicly, instead calling it “the stuff.” Back then, disposable contact lenses were nonexistent. I often wore hard lenses for months, likely depriving my occipital lobe of 93.2% of necessary oxygen, edging toward blindness. Lastly, my fondness for 1970s track shorts, notorious for their lack of pockets, meant everything I owned was tucked into my socks or sneakers. Perhaps this explains my lackluster high school athletic career.
Grandma saw me as a delinquent, a stark contrast to my perfectly curated twin brother. She viewed the world through this skewed lens, only seeking evidence that confirmed my delinquency. She ignored anything that suggested otherwise, performing mental gymnastics to keep this theory viable.
Despite her intelligence—one of the first women to make a name for herself in the financial world—she wasn't immune to misinformation. Intelligence doesn't shield you from falsehoods. Consider the case of the best-selling sleep book, “Why We Sleep,” that misled millions…including a few of you reading this.
Below are insights from an exceptional book that will make you wiser, May Contain Lies: How Stories, Statistics, and Studies Exploit Our Biases - And What We Can Do About It by Dr. Alex Edmans.
If you are a premium subscriber, let me tantalize you further about how we are being misled - my beloved dead grandma, you, me, and Andrew Huberman who had the author of Why We Sleep on his podcast…
I must confess. I adored Why We Sleep. My graduate student recommended it, knowing I suffer from long bouts of hypomania and often sleep little (despite my affinity for 18.2 minute mid-day naps). I mean, Matt Walker is a doctor! Over 23 million people have watched his TED Talk (here)! So right away, you have three of Robert Cialdini’s principles of persuasion - an authority figure + social proof + he is likable person on big-ass platforms. What could go wrong?