“In creating these problems, we didn’t set out to fool people. All our problems fooled us, too.”

Amos Tversky

He looked at her with a sidelong glance. A haggard day’s moss covered his granite chin, suggesting the rigors that the day had brought. Despite any weariness he may have felt, a smirk brightened his clouded features. He managed a muttered greeting and went back to his work–a passerby would have noticed red bleed across his cheeks.

Look at him! He smirks like he owns the world–maybe because he thinks he’s too good for it. How can he be so blind? When he looks in the mirror, does he miss the receding hairline? Do his bulbous cheeks make him merry? Well Friar Tuck, there’s nothing to be jolly about. And his eyes … they’re duller than a Honda in need of a bad wash.