Will Baude speculates here on the morality of coffee. This slashdot series contemplates whether as coffee drinkers, we are really responsible for our actions.
I myself am about to feast on hot dogs with chili from Bunker Hill, a Southwest Virginia institution since, well, since I before I started eating. (My wife, not being from this area, never watched the Arthur Smith show - sponsored by Bunker Hill - and is somehow immune to the appeal of Bunker Hill chili.)
When I was an undergraduate, the University had a free hot dog promotion, to set a women's basketball attendance record at U. Hall, and it worked, more than 11,000 people showed up in a building that seats 8,500. In the hot dog line, I spotted one of my philosophy professors, whereupon the following exchange took place:
Me: "Professor Simmons, you eat hot dogs?"
He: "Yes, it's very disillusioning, isn't it?"
Regarding "Hot Dog Night," this page explains, of the AD who thunk it up: "In 1986, one of West’s inspirations ran afoul of the fire marshals when the athletic department made a school-wide drive to break an all-time women’s college basketball attendance record offering free hot dogs as an incentive. The record was broken, but not before overselling University Hall and crowding the aisles and fire exits. “And they were still lined up down to Emmet Street,” he chuckles."
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