Things That Probably Have a Good Reason, But I Will Never Get

Some things I am destined never to understand.  Like Japanese television programming.  If this blog hasn't taught you yet, there are also a lot of things out there in the world that make little sense in the light of common sense or reason, but still exist because the people who made them and/or the target demographic are as bright as elephant dung.  However, I am willing to admit that not everything I consider counter-intuitive necessarily implies dipshittery on the part of someone else.  There is probably a logical explanation.  But I'll be damned if I can figure it out.

Sitting down at a restaurant when you have kids.

This is one of those things I actually hope I never understand.  I get it, children, especially the small, nimble variety, are a handful, making shrill noises, scurrying around and bouncing off things to stay just out of reach, like a rat-dog or monkey.  And that's assuming they are not pelting you with fistfuls of Cheerios or die-cast toy trucks.  Then there are car-seats to transform into their alternate mode of infant-containment-unit.

Honestly, who would put their baby in something that is so obviously a Decepticon?

Children must be passed back and forth between all adults at least three times; the mobile pre-humans corralled and forced into various seats following a five-minute debate who can sit beside whom; and diaper-bags, strollers, backpack carriers, and unidentifiable trappings resembling bombproof-suits situated, re-positioned, and finally jammed into any available space.  All I want to do as I hover ten feet away, waiting for the ritual to conclude before approaching (since it invariably consumes all of the parents' attention), is yell, "Just sit the fuck down."  But here's the part I really don't get: it seems as if, no matter how many or how few imps are involved, the presence or lack of the baby-toting paraphernalia notwithstanding, it still takes five minutes just to sit down.  It's as if the mere presence of the crotch-dumplings slows down the space-time flow, or at least parents' perception of it.  I assume this is the same phenomenon that occurs when old age sets in.

Visual cues for the blind and/or braille in odd places.

Now, just to clarify before the torches and nooses come out, I am not mocking the blind, although I do snicker every time I hear an advertisement for a local window-dressing shop called House of Blinds.  (C'mon, it's kind of funny.)  But some things just make me scratch my head, such as this:

At my bank's drive-through ATM.

Who is using these?  To be honest, I can't say I have ever seen a blind person using a teller machine in any capacity, drive-through ones even less so.  And a headphone jack?  In case you are, what, so blind you can't read braille?  Even if that were possible, you still have to accurately press buttons labeled in braille.  So it must be for people who are both blind and mentally-challenged (multi-alternatively-enabled?).  And driving cars to access money.  I am guessing all businesses just use the same generic model of ATM, whether it's for a drive-through or not, but it is always a weird thing to see when you ponder the implications.

Ha, trick question!  Got you, tax-defrauders!

There is truly no way to justify this, but it appears on almost every online tax form.  Blind people can do some pretty amazing things, despite their handicap, er, equal-difference-non-impairment . . . thing.  But I do not understand how they could be filling out their own taxes on the computer.

*Pictured: Just an average, everyday visually-impaired citizen, the muthafuckin' "I-can-kick-a-dozen-Yokuza's-asses-but-can't-use-Facebook" Daredevil.

I am forced to assume this is simply a poor choice of words on the part of the tax-form copywriter (sweet Gutenberg, does that sound like a rewarding career).  It should probably run something like, "Is this person blind?"  Then again, I am not blind, so what do I know?

Books for extremely specific things (especially this one).

Maybe the dogs are the ones taking the pictures.

Publishing a book is expensive.  As this goes to print, digitally and for free, the Encyclopaedia Britannica is ceasing all physical production of its 244-year-old tomes of accumulated wisdom.  Readers and tablets like Kindle and Nook were invented in an attempt to trick a vapid, technologically-obsessed, increasingly-illiterate public into reading books again, under the assumption they would mistake it for the Internet.  Aside from the megalithic Barnes & Noble, nary a bookstore can stay in business without offering an espresso bar, WiFi, and cut-rate crack cocaine out the back door.  So, especially in this day and age, the printing of a book on honest-to-Gaia, murdered-tree paper must be economically-viable, marketable to a mass audience.

And this is considered a sound investment?  Dog Photography for Dummies?  There are people who can't figure out how to take pictures of dogs?  Because they're really rare, elusive, seldom-photographed beasts, akin to Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, or J.D. Salinger (how's that for an obtuse reference?).  Hell, I wouldn't have thought there were enough total people out there trying to take pictures, successfully or not, of our four-legged friends to justify the publication of such a guide.  I would think those aspiring photographers who just can't seem to snap a decent picture of Fido could look to the childless women of Facebook who treat their Pugadoodleyork rat-dogs as babies and post images of said pets accordingly.  But there must be demand if the book got printed, which sort of saddens me for other reasons.

If any of you can shed light on these mysteries for me, I would be much obliged.