Teflon Quotes

Does your mind feel more and more like teflon? Nothing sticks to it?

Sometimes I wish I could be like Teflon. I always admired that stuff. Water beads up on it and slides off, nothing sticks. You gotta have a little of that to be able to deal with what's out there. But... Teflon takes a shot and shows the damage. It cannot heal itself. That is our strength: we can heal. We can make ourselves stronger. You can be a bright light in a sea of shit, doesn't matter how big the light is as long as it shines. Get a hold of some of that and don't blow your brains out no matter how good an idea it sounds like at the time. Like when you wake up around three in the morning panicking from an attack from some unseen horror and you want to get out so bad.

Part of me aches to touch her now that she's so close. But the other part, the logical part, wants to coast myself in Teflon, because I know that her being here, no matter what her reasons, is going to seriously fuck with my world.

Your brain is like Velcro for negative experiences but Teflon for positive ones.

He’s untouchable. He’s freaking Teflon.

People didn't stick because I was made of fucking Teflon. I'd always told myself that it was better that way, that being alone was easier. That I wasn't a coward for easing my way out of friendships before they could really start.

Wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me they stick you out here where there are no Daimons and you don’t have a weak spot? What kind of shit is that? I live in Daimon Central with one hell of an Achilles’ heel that no one ever bothered to mention, and you live where there’s no danger to you and yet you don’t have one? What’s not fair with this picture? And then Ash asks me to come up here to save your ass and here we are dropping like flies while you’re Teflon. No, I have a problem with this. I love you, man, but dayam. This just ain’t right. I’m up here freezing my balls off, and you, you don’t need protection. Meanwhile I have a bull’s-eye on my arm that says, ‘Hey, Daimon on steroids, kill me right here.’ Do you realize, I put my keys in my mouth to pull out my wallet to pay for gas and they froze there? The last thing I want to do is die up here in this godforsaken place at the hands of some freaked-out something no one has ever heard of before except for Guido the Killer Squire from Jersey? I swear I want someone’s ass for this. (Jess)

There’s a term for this irrational fear of joy: cherophobia (chero is the Greek word for “rejoice”). People with cherophobia are like Teflon pans in terms of pleasure—it doesn’t stick (though pain cakes on them as if to an ungreased surface).

I tried to book two rooms at the same hotel, or at least a room with two beds, or even a room with a twin or queen bed, but the only ones available are singles, and even they were hard to find. Apparently some new Nicholas Sparks movie is being filmed here, and that ‘Zac Teflon’ boy from those high school movies is in town.

Children who are resilient often have an appearance of a Teflon coating: nothing seems to faze these children.

The moral of this story is not everything that's slick is non-stick, and not everything non-stick is slick.

I know we agree that civilisation is presently in its decadent declining phase, and that lurid ugliness is the predominant visual feature of modern life. Cars are ugly, buildings are ugly, mass-produced disposable consumer goods are unspeakably ugly. The air we breathe is toxic, the water we drink is full of microplastics, and our food is contaminated by cancerous Teflon chemicals. Our quality of life is in decline, and along with it, the quality of aesthetic experience available to us. The contemporary novel is (with very few exceptions) irrelevant; mainstream cinema is family-friendly nightmare porn funded by car companies and the US Department of Defense; and visual art is primarily a commodity market for oligarchs. It is hard in these circumstances not to feel that modern living compares poorly with the old ways of life, which have come to represent something more substantial, more connected to the essence of the human condition.

There comes a time in everyones life when they discovers whether they are made of Teflon or Styrofoam.

Siamo gente di Teflon, con noi le critiche non attaccano.

Sam Spade is as gray as the economic skies over America and moves through the story as cool and slick as a Teflon cat.

I listed my triggers (carrot cake, deadlines, weight gain, mice, insomnia), studied relapse prevention, and learned dialectical behavioral therapy (DBT) skills, which I liked because you could apply them to life, not just recovery. My favorite was “Teflon mind,” where you imagine your brain being like nonstick cookware: negative thoughts just slide right off.

You think we’re psychopaths? Motherfucker, you haven’t seen shit.” Tristian gives him a cold grin. “It’s true. She uses metal utensils on Teflon pans. In forty years, we’ll all be full of cancer. Downright diabolical.

Pump seals therefore had to be devised that were both gastight and greaseless, a puzzle no one had ever solved before that required the development of new kinds of plastics. (The seal material that eventually served at Oak Ridge came into its own after the war under the brand name Teflon.)

Teflon Panty Club

My self-esteem is Teflon coated, baby.

Still waiting for them to make reversible diapers, maybe with teflon coating...

You don’t last long in this line of work if you feel more than others. Only the strong and the armored survive. You need an extra layer of skin, of Teflon, of Kevlar.

My favorite was “Teflon mind,” where you imagine your brain being like nonstick cookware: negative thoughts just slide right off. Just

What was once an anonymous medium where anyone could be anyone—where, in the words of the famous New Yorker cartoon, nobody knows you’re a dog—is now a tool for soliciting and analyzing our personal data. According to one Wall Street Journal study, the top fifty Internet sites, from CNN to Yahoo to MSN, install an average of 64 data-laden cookies and personal tracking beacons each. Search for a word like “depression” on Dictionary.com, and the site installs up to 223 tracking cookies and beacons on your computer so that other Web sites can target you with antidepressants. Share an article about cooking on ABC News, and you may be chased around the Web by ads for Teflon-coated pots. Open—even for an instant—a page listing signs that your spouse may be cheating and prepare to be haunted with DNA paternity-test ads. The new Internet doesn’t just know you’re a dog; it knows your breed and wants to sell you a bowl of premium kibble.

Being a Mulvaney made Adam Teflon. And Noah belonged to Adam. That knowledge was a heady thing. Being untouchable. It made Noah reckless. Fuck. It made him dangerous. Far more dangerous than Thomas’s mercenary training ever would. Because Adam would do anything to protect Noah. Anything. He was like a vicious junkyard dog, and Noah held his leash.

I know we agree that civilisation is presently in its decadent declining phase, and that lurid ugliness is the predominant visual feature of modern life. Cars are ugly, buildings are ugly, mass-produced disposable consumer goods are unspeakably ugly. The air we breathe is toxic, the water we drink is full of microplastics, and our food is contaminated by cancerous Teflon chemicals. Our quality of life is in decline, and along with it, the quality of aesthetic experience available to us.

a small but functional kitchen which seemed overwhelmed by the sheer volume of assorted cookware. Pots, pans, cutting boards, strainers, even a damn rolling pin lay strewn about—as if at any moment Suzy Homemaker might burst in to bake us a fucking souffle. Now, before you start defending your God-given right to bear Teflon, keep in mind I have nothing against people who religiously cook their own meals—I simply don’t understand them. Especially my fellow city dwellers. I mean, why waste all that time preparing dinner when you live in a town chock full of restaurants and bars that deliver damn near 24/7?

In your own mind, what do you usually think about at the end of the day? The fifty things that went right, or the one that went wrong? Such as the driver who cut you off in traffic, or the one thing on your To Do list that didn’t get done . . . In effect, the brain is like Velcro for negative experiences, but Teflon for positive ones. That shades implicit memory—your underlying feelings, expectations, beliefs, inclinations, and mood—in an increasingly negative direction. Which is not fair, since most of the facts in your life are probably positive or at least neutral. Besides the injustice of it, the growing pile of negative experiences in implicit memory naturally makes a person more anxious, irritable, and blue—plus it gets harder to be patient and giving toward others. But you don’t have to accept this bias! By tilting toward the good—toward that which brings more happiness and benefit to oneself and others—you merely level the playing field. Then, instead of positive experiences washing through you like water through a sieve, they’ll collect in implicit memory deep down in your brain.

I know we agree that civilization is presently in its decadent declining phase, and that lurid ugliness is the predominant visual feature of modern life. Cars are ugly, buildings are ugly, mass-produced disposable consumer goods are unspeakably ugly. The air we breathe is toxic, the water we drink is full of microplastics, and our food is contaminated by cancerous Teflon chemicals. Our quality of life is in decline, and along with it, the quality of aesthetic experience available to us. The contemporary novel is (with very few exceptions) irrelevant; mainstream cinema is family-friendly nightmare porn funded by car companies and the US Department of Defense; and visual art is primarily a commodity market for oligarchs. It is hard in these circumstances not to feel that modern living compares poorly with the old ways of life, which have come to represent something more substantial, more connected to the essence of the human condition. This nostalgic impulse is of course extremely powerful, and has recently been harnessed to great effect by reactionary and fascist political movements, but I’m not convinced that this means the impulse itself is intrinsically fascistic. I think it makes sense that people are looking back wistfully to a time before the natural world started dying, before our shared cultural forms degraded into mass marketing and before our cities and towns became anonymous employment hubs.

At Prim’s side was a woman with a politician’s face (supercilious, sanctimonious, vacuous, terrified, smarmy, disingenuous, small-minded, vengeful, coldhearted, opportunistic, petty, deceitful, evidence-ignoring, bullying, arrogant, smug, obnoxious, contemptuous, ignorant, reactionary, condescending, patronizing, blinkered, vacillating, corrupt, morally bankrupt, blackmailing, blackmailable, dodgy, wavering, backstabbing, bought, sold, stinking rich, unqualified, sleazy, teeth-capped, kneecapping, corporate-owned, hate-mongering, fear-mongering, button-pushing, deflecting, evading, brazening, hit-song-stealing, nostalgia-worshipping, distorting, no-tax-returning, tax-evading, offshore-holding, shady-business-partnering, election-stealing, arms-dealing, collateral-damage signing-offing, hypocritically family-value bleating but sexually deviant-ing, honest-forthright-honorable—a paragon-of-integrity [lying], spiteful, unreliable, Teflon-coated, Saran-wrapped, white-breaded, xenophobic, cynical, uncomprehending of irony-ing, witless, thin-skinned, insecure, unfulfilled, blindly ambitious, power-hungry, sadistic, self-righteous, incapable of contemplation-ing, prevaricating, privileged, pampered, Ivy League–educated [in something useless like political science, economics, or law], pompous, ego-centered, centered, narcissistic, shallow, bullshitting, manipulative, backtracking, quote-denying, what-climate-changing?, alternate-truth-ing, prejudice-feeding, hate-inciting, racketeering, blame-shifting, warmongering, autocratic, megalomaniacal, possibly sociopathic, blathering, self-serving, unreliable, cliquey, cagey, crafty, cunning, daft, dull, ethically destitute, irredeemable, oil-burning, fracking [but NIMBY], self-pay-raising, self-congratulating, self-aggrandizing, but all that was just first impressions so who can say?).

You may have noticed sudden death of parakeet or perhaps your parakeet is having breathing problem. This is because of birds having a susceptible condition called “teflon toxicity”. This is because of the gas that is emmits from the heated teflon cookware. The gas is emmited because of the chemical polytetrafluoroethylene (PTFE) found on most of the cookwares. That’s why many bird keepers and vets suggests you to remove the teflon coated cookware. If you can’t do that then move the bird away from your kitchen or in areas where they can breathe fresh air instead of that gas.

way. A true friend isn't the one that agrees with everything you say or do. A true friend is someone that has your back even when you're wrong, but when you're wrong, you're wrong.

Compare it to its contemporary, the space program. The latter focused on a single mind-blowing goal, a moon landing, which was successfully met. And then the enterprise fizzled, becoming decreasingly relevant to the general public. The main benefits of the whole enterprise seem to have been Teflon, Tang, and a stack of very cool photographs. ARPA—by using its relatively meager bankroll (millions, not billions) to seed an entire culture devoted to transforming computers into instruments of communications and mental augmentation—bootstrapped a revolution that would change the way all of us worked, created, and thought.

No matter what its citizens get up to, Hamburg always manages to keep its nose clean.

Scientists call this default mechanism a “negativity bias,” and it makes perfect sense. Our very survival depends on being able to screen out potential attacks. “The mind is like Velcro for negative experiences,” says neuropsychologist Rick Hanson, “and Teflon for positive ones.”4

Your body fat levels can increase through means that are beyond your control. Pollution is a major culprit here because it’s been shown to contain obesogenic compounds that promote the accumulation of body fat. And these compounds are making their way into our air and rivers. Pesticides also increase body fat as they run off into lakes and rivers after being sprayed on the food we eat. And, you encounter a large number of chemical body-fat-promoting compounds, referred to by scientists as obesogens, through plastic bottles, Styrofoam, shampoo, paints, carpeting, food preservatives, artificial ingredients, plastic shower curtains, antibacterial soap and Teflon cookware. Artificial obesogens are found in the special paper used for ATM and cash register receipts and even in the chemicals found in a new automobile that give it that “new car smell.

The transition to managing a larger team reminded me that when everything is going fine, management is easy. Thousands of managers around the world inherit healthy teams in healthy companies, do little of merit, and get great rewards for just being in the right place at the right time. The real story behind some people you meet with fantastic reputations isn't notable talents or skills, but merely an exceptional ability to choose the right time to join and leave particular projects. The work of managers everywhere is rarely evaluated with enough consideration for the situation they inherited and the situations they faced that were not in their control. We all make judgments of ability at the most superficial levels. If the results are good, we give praise. If the results are poor, we criticize. We rarely give credence to the feeling in the back of our minds that the winner or loser doesn't quite fit the part. We know in our careers people who were shafted, taking the fall for incompetence that wasn't theirs, and also people who slide through organizations as if coated with Teflon, causing misery and frustration at every turn, yet they move into promotions unscathed.

Do you have a frying pan? Not Teflon, I hate that stuff. Cast iron? Or stainless steel?" I found River an old cast iron pan in the cabinet by the sink. I put it on the stove, and I imagined, for a second, Freddie, young, wearing a pearl necklace and a hat that slouched off to one side, standing over that very pan and making an omelet after a late night spent dancing those crazy, cool dances they did back in her day. "Brilliant," River said. He lit the gas stove and threw some butter in the pan. Then he cut four pieces of the baguette, rubbed them with a clove of garlic, and tore a hole out in each. He set the bread in the butter and cracked an egg onto the bread so it filled up the hole. The yolks of the eggs were a bright orange, which, according to Sunshine's dad, meant the chickens were as happy as a blue sky when they laid them. "Eggs in a frame," River smiled at me. When the eggs were done, but still runny, he put them on two plates, diced a tomato into little juicy squares, and piled them on top of the bread. The tomato had been grown a few miles outside of Echo, in some peaceful person's greenhouse, and it was red as sin and ripe as the noon sun. River sprinkled some sea salt over the tomatoes, and a little olive oil, and handed me a plate. "It's so good, River. So very, very good. Where the hell did you learn to cook?" Olive oil and tomato juice were running down my chin and I couldn't have cared less. "Honestly? My mother was a chef." River had the half smile on his crooked mouth, sly, sly, sly. "This is sort of a bruschetta, but with a fried egg. American, by way of Italy.

Holden was imagining what several hundred rounds of Teflon-coated tungsten steel going five thousand meters per second would do to human bodies when Alex threw down the throttle and a roomful of elephants swan dived onto his chest.

The brain is like Velcro for negative experiences but Teflon for positive ones.” So

You know how you’ve been avoiding steak and cheese to try and stay thin? Not any more. Ever pass by someone’s house in the morning, smell bacon cooking and get pissed off because you’ve had Cheerios for a million days in a row? Guess what’s back on your diet? Bacon. What about those egg whites you were cooking in the Teflon pan? Are you crazy? Not only have you been giving up the yolk, the most nutritional part of the egg, you’ve been giving up the best tasting part. What a tragedy! Fish, pork, steak, Italian sausage—all sausage for that matter—eat to your heart’s content. And, from the plant world, what about all the delicious stuff you stayed away from because they were high-fat foods with lots of calories? Olives, avocados, coconuts. Enjoy! You like heavy cream in your coffee? Dump it in! And guess how much you can have of this stuff? As much as you want. When you start eating properly, when you rid yourself of those insulin swings, you’ll lose the feeling of being a bottomless pit that can never be sated. You’ll regulate the amount you eat naturally and you’ll find yourself feeling full much quicker. Don

Physical Invasion The normative principle I am suggesting for the law is simply this: No action should be considered illicit or illegal unless it invades, or aggresses against, the person or just property of another. Only invasive actions should be declared illegal, and combated with the full power of the law. The invasion must be concrete and physical. There are degrees of seriousness of such invasion, and hence, different proper degrees of restitution or punishment. "Burglary," simple invasion of property for purposes of theft, is less serious than "robbery," where armed force is likely to be used against the victim. Here, however, we are not concerned with the questions of degrees of invasion or punishment, but simply with invasion per se. If no man may invade another person's "just" property, what is our criterion of justice to be? There is no space here to elaborate on a theory of justice in property titles. Suffice it to say that the basic axiom of libertarian political theory holds that every man is a selfowner, having absolute jurisdiction over his own body. In effect, this means that no one else may justly invade, or aggress against, another's person. It follows then that each person justly owns whatever previously unowned resources he appropriates or "mixes his labor with." From these twin axioms — self-ownership and "homesteading" — stem the justification for the entire system of property rights titles in a free-market society. This system establishes the right of every man to his own person, the right of donation, of bequest (and, concomitantly, the right to receive the bequest or inheritance), and the right of contractual exchange of property titles. Legal and political theory have committed much mischief by failing to pinpoint physical invasion as the only human action that should be illegal and that justifies the use of physical violence to combat it. The vague concept of "harm" is substituted for the precise one of physical violence. Consider the following two examples. Jim is courting Susan and is just about to win her hand in marriage, when suddenly Bob appears on the scene and wins her away. Surely Bob has done great "harm" to Jim. Once a nonphysical-invasion sense of harm is adopted, almost any outlaw act might be justified. Should Jim be able to "enjoin" Bob's very existence? Similarly, A is a successful seller of razor blades. But then B comes along and sells a better blade, teflon-coated to prevent shaving cuts. The value of A's property is greatly affected. Should he be able to collect damages from B, or, better yet, to enjoin B's sale of a better blade? The correct answer is not that consumers would be hurt if they were forced to buy the inferior blade, although that is surely the case. Rather, no one has the right to legally prevent or retaliate against "harms" to his property unless it is an act of physical invasion. Everyone has the right to have the physical integrity of his property inviolate; no one has the right to protect the value of his property, for that value is purely the reflection of what people are willing to pay for it. That willingness solely depends on how they decide to use their money. No one can have a right to someone else's money, unless that other person had previously contracted to transfer it to him. "Legal and political theory have committed much mischief by failing to pinpoint physical invasion as the only human action that should be illegal and that justifies the use of physical violence to combat it.

There’s a term for this irrational fear of joy: cherophobia (chero is the Greek word for “rejoice”). People with cherophobia are like Teflon pans in terms of pleasure—it doesn’t stick (though pain cakes on them as if to an ungreased surface). It’s common for people with traumatic histories to expect disaster just around the corner.

For an illustration of business drift, rational and opportunistic business drift, take the following. Coca-Cola began as a pharmaceutical product. Tiffany & Co., the fancy jewelry store company, started life as a stationery store. The last two examples are close, perhaps, but consider next: Raytheon, which made the first missile guidance system, was a refrigerator maker (one of the founders was no other than Vannevar Bush, who conceived the teleological linear model of science we saw earlier; go figure). Now, worse: Nokia, who used to be the top mobile phone maker, began as a paper mill (at some stage they were into rubber shoes). DuPont, now famous for Teflon nonstick cooking pans, Corian countertops, and the durable fabric Kevlar, actually started out as an explosives company. Avon, the cosmetics company, started out in door-to-door book sales. And, the strangest of all, Oneida Silversmiths was a community religious cult but for regulatory reasons they needed to use as cover a joint stock company.

I wore my resilient suit so long it became like a Teflon coating, keeping me separate from the world – untouched, disconnected – so it took me a long time to realise that the war was over.

Unfortunately, the man’s made of Teflon. Nothing sticks. He should’ve been locked up a dozen times, but there isn’t a judge in the state with the balls to convict him.

Holden was imagining what several hundred rounds of Teflon-coated tungsten steel going five thousand meters per second would do to human bodies

As Blake had once said, the girl was made of Teflon.

When Scripture says, "As a man thinks, so is he," it is raw truth. How we approach life and react to its vagaries determines the bulk of our character. How we love is locked into how we think about it. What angers us is triggered by how we think. It is between our ears that we decide how easily offended we will be. When it comes to harsh words from others, whether my skin absorbs like cotton or deflects like Teflon is a decision I make. All of that happens in a three-pound organ five-and-a-half inches across called my brain. In a very real sense, my world begins and ends between my ears. I don't have to be brain-dead to be brain-defeated.

The key is giving appreciations that stick like Velcro, instead of the quick “Hey, thanks!” that slips off like Teflon.

Hanson says, “The brain is like Velcro for negative experiences but Teflon for positive ones.

According to neuropsychologist Rick Hanson, your brain is like Velcro for negative experiences and Teflon for positive ones. For most of human history, we were chased by predators or endangered by natural forces. So we are genetically wired to focus on what is wrong, what we do not have, what lurks in the unknown. It takes practice to create a positivity bias, to be grateful for all you do have instead of all you do not have, all that is right instead of all that is wrong, all that feels good instead of all that aches.

Tough experiences teflon coat you and strengthen you against further adversity...Bad things happen. And yet the sun still comes up the next day. And it's up to you to carry on living your life and keeping your setbacks in perspective. You also have to understand that on some level these horrible and sad things happen to everyone. The Mark of the Man is not just how he survives it all, but also what wisdom he's gained along the way

to help our ancestors survive, the brain evolved a negativity bias that makes it like Velcro for bad experiences but Teflon for good ones.

Sophie Bushwick/Popular Science 7/16-inch inner diameter ribbed hose 5/16-inch wood dowel 1/4-inch outer diameter vinyl tubing Small hose clamps Five 1/4-inch hose barbs x 1/4-inch male threaded adapters Five 1/4-inch hose barbs x 1/4-inch female threaded adapters Electrical tape Yellow Teflon thread tape Several long balloons (type 350Q) 1-inch x 6-inch board or other support Fluidic control board Robot Hand Instructions 1. Insert the 5/16-inch dowel into the ribbed hose to hold it straight. Use the center punch to carefully punch holes between each rib in a line along the seam of the hose. Flip the hose over and repeat along other seam. (Photo ) 2. Use the drill press to drill a hole at each center-punched location between the hose ribs, leaving the dowel in place to provide support. It is best to drill the holes on each side of the hose separately, rather than drill straight through. When you are done you should have a neat line of holes on each side of the ribbed hose. These holes will act as a stress relief and prevent the hose from splitting when it is flexed. (Photo ) 3. Remove the dowel and cut the hose into five 3-inch fingers with the utility knife. For each finger, use the utility knife to very carefully cut between each rib from the hole on one side to the hole on the other. Leave the first two ribs on each end uncut. Cut through one side of the hose only. It is critical that you do not nick the far side of the stress relief holes or you will reduce the reliability of the finger dramatically. Now the hose can flex in one direction more than in the opposite direction. (Photo ) 4. Insert another piece of dowel into one of the long balloons. Use it to gently feed the balloon into one of the fingers until the end of the balloon sticks out enough to grab it. Remove the dowel, and fold about 1/4-inch of the balloon tip over the rim of the hose. Secure it by wrapping a piece of electrical tape all the way around the tip of the finger. (Photo ) 5. Now feed the dowel back inside the finger from the non-taped end, but on the outside of the balloon. Insert it until it is just within two ribs of the tip of the finger. Fill the tip of the finger with hot glue, allow to cool, and then carefully remove the dowel. 6. Use electrical tape over the end of the finger, covering the hot-glued end. Another wrap of electrical tape over this will seal the end of the finger. (Photo ) 7. Cut the open end of the balloon away, leaving about an inch beyond the end of the finger. Stretch the open end of the balloon out and over the end of the finger. (Photo ) 8. Repeat steps 4 through 7 for each finger. (Photo ) 9. Use the yellow Teflon tape to wrap the threads on each of the male hose barbs. Thread each male hose barb onto each female hose barb and tighten firmly with the crescent wrenches. Then use more yellow Teflon tape and wrap each female hose barb several times around. The ends of these hose barbs should fit snugly into the open ends of each finger. (Photo ) 10. Use the small hose clamps to affix each finger onto the Teflon wrapped ends of the five hose barbs. (Photo ) 11. Now use hot glue to firmly attach each finger to the end of the 1x6-inch board (or other support) to form a hand. Finally, attach a length of 1/4-inch O.D. vinyl hose to the open hose barb on each finger. (Photo ) 12. Now the hand is complete--but it still needs a control system. Check out Harvard’s Soft Robotics Toolkit for inspiration, or just follow the instructions below. Building The

to the source), they griped as much as they pleased. The King would stand at a window (during halftime or the seventh-inning stretch) and stare apprehensively at the creeping tide of brambles. “I may be the first monarch in history to be assassinated by blackberries,” he would grumble. His Teflon valve grumbled with him. The Queen caressed her Chihuahua. “You know who lifed

If you chop off the head, the body will surely fall.

Teflon Divas

The brain is like Velcro for negative experiences but Teflon for positive ones.

Negative thoughts are like velcro; they stick. Positive thoughts are like teflon; they fall away easily.

The normative principle I am suggesting for the law is simply this: No action should be considered illicit or illegal unless it invades, or aggresses against, the person or just property of another. Only invasive actions should be declared illegal, and combated with the full power of the law. The invasion must be concrete and physical. There are degrees of seriousness of such invasion, and hence, different proper degrees of restitution or punishment. "Burglary," simple invasion of property for purposes of theft, is less serious than "robbery," where armed force is likely to be used against the victim. Here, however, we are not concerned with the questions of degrees of invasion or punishment, but simply with invasion per se. If no man may invade another person's "just" property, what is our criterion of justice to be? There is no space here to elaborate on a theory of justice in property titles. Suffice it to say that the basic axiom of libertarian political theory holds that every man is a selfowner, having absolute jurisdiction over his own body. In effect, this means that no one else may justly invade, or aggress against, another's person. It follows then that each person justly owns whatever previously unowned resources he appropriates or "mixes his labor with." From these twin axioms — self-ownership and "homesteading" — stem the justification for the entire system of property rights titles in a free-market society. This system establishes the right of every man to his own person, the right of donation, of bequest (and, concomitantly, the right to receive the bequest or inheritance), and the right of contractual exchange of property titles. Legal and political theory have committed much mischief by failing to pinpoint physical invasion as the only human action that should be illegal and that justifies the use of physical violence to combat it. The vague concept of "harm" is substituted for the precise one of physical violence. Consider the following two examples. Jim is courting Susan and is just about to win her hand in marriage, when suddenly Bob appears on the scene and wins her away. Surely Bob has done great "harm" to Jim. Once a nonphysical-invasion sense of harm is adopted, almost any outlaw act might be justified. Should Jim be able to "enjoin" Bob's very existence? Similarly, A is a successful seller of razor blades. But then B comes along and sells a better blade, teflon-coated to prevent shaving cuts. The value of A's property is greatly affected. Should he be able to collect damages from B, or, better yet, to enjoin B's sale of a better blade? The correct answer is not that consumers would be hurt if they were forced to buy the inferior blade, although that is surely the case. Rather, no one has the right to legally prevent or retaliate against "harms" to his property unless it is an act of physical invasion. Everyone has the right to have the physical integrity of his property inviolate; no one has the right to protect the value of his property, for that value is purely the reflection of what people are willing to pay for it. That willingness solely depends on how they decide to use their money. No one can have a right to someone else's money, unless that other person had previously contracted to transfer it to him. Legal and political theory have committed much mischief by failing to pinpoint physical invasion as the only human action that should be illegal and that justifies the use of physical violence to combat it. (1/2)

Although some kids can be thick-skinned, none are made of Teflon. Children look to their parents for identity and they tend to believe whatever their parents say about them. If parents degrade or humiliate their kids with jokes, hypercriticism, and intrusiveness, their children will not trust them. And without trust, intimacy is lost, listening is moot, and joint problem solving becomes impossible.

our brain is like Velcro for negative experiences but Teflon for positive ones.” We tend to take the positive for granted while focusing on the negative as if our life depended on it.

David Kirkpatrick, a bald, former Jesuit student, whose smile never looked real, had the dubious distinction of being the executive with the longest run without a hit. We used to have a pool: When will Kirkpatrick get a hit? It didn't happen during my tenure. In fact, he became known as "The Teflon Executive, " because wherever he went, failure always followed. But for the longest time, it seemed that the bombs never stuck to him.

Be a cool cucumber. Picture someone who is so nonplussed about everything they are like Teflon; nothing sticks to them. They shrug often. They are indifferent. This is how you must react to Mind, even if you don’t have that personality.

every time I turned around, she was there, immune to my efforts like fucking Teflon.

He’s the happy-go-lucky middle child, who all the shit just seems to roll off. Like some sort of Teflon pan. Or at least that’s the way it seems.

Many in the press and political chattering class marveled at how Teflon-coated Trump seemed to be, ignoring their own role in making him so.

Are you waiting for the other shoe to drop?” I ask. There’s a term for this irrational fear of joy: cherophobia (chero is the Greek word for “rejoice”). People with cherophobia are like Teflon pans in terms of pleasure—it doesn’t stick (though pain cakes on them as if to an ungreased surface). It’s common for people with traumatic histories to expect disaster just around the corner. Instead of leaning into the goodness that comes their way, they become hypervigilant, always waiting for something to go wrong. That might be why Rita still fumbled for tissues in her purse even though she knew a fresh box was beside her on the table. Better not to get used to a full box of tissues, or a surrogate family next door, or people purchasing your art, or the man you’re dreaming about giving you a big fat kiss in the parking lot. Don’t delude yourself, sister! The second you get too comfortable—whoosh!—it will all go away. For Rita, joy isn’t pleasure; it’s anticipatory pain.

There’s another large group of churches at the opposite end of the spectrum. These are the ingrown and dying churches that don’t seem to care if anyone ever comes through the front door—or goes to hell, for that matter. On the surface, they can appear to be focused on one another and somewhat sticky, but they’re not. Ingrown and dying churches don’t take care of the flock. They appease the flock. And they’re not very sticky either. Except for a small group of people welded tightly together at the center, these churches are a lot more like teflon than velcro. Just try to connect with one. You can’t unless you’re willing to marry a member’s daughter.

required the development of new kinds of plastics. (The seal material that eventually served at Oak Ridge came into its own after the war under the brand name Teflon.)

The Responsive mode is our home base, but we’re easily driven from home and prone to getting stuck in the red zone due to the brain’s negativity bias, which makes it like Velcro for bad experiences but Teflon for good ones. •

High-Priority Storage When an event is flagged as negative, the hippocampus makes sure it’s stored carefully for future reference. Once burned, twice shy. Your brain is like Velcro for negative experiences and Teflon for positive ones—even though most of your experiences are probably neutral or positive.

Are you waiting for the other shoe to drop?” I ask. There’s a term for this irrational fear of joy: cherophobia (chero is the Greek word for “rejoice”). People with cherophobia are like Teflon pans in terms of pleasure—it doesn’t stick (though pain cakes on them as if to an ungreased surface). It’s common for people with traumatic histories to expect disaster just around the corner. Instead of leaning into the goodness that comes their way, they become hypervigilant, always waiting for something to go wrong.

Humans connect with humans. Hiding one's humanity and trying to project an image of perfection makes a person vague, slippery, lifeless, and uninteresting. I often refer to Nice Guys as Teflon Men. They work so hard to be smooth, nothing can stick to them. Unfortunately, this Teflon coating also makes it difficult for people to get close. It is actually a person's rough edges and human imperfections that give others something to connect with.

His gifts for deflection, misdirection, and obfuscation, and perhaps his boyish charm, give Dr. Fauci a Teflon quality—which he shared with President Ronald Reagan, under whom he initially came to power. Something about Dr. Fauci allows him to escape responsibility for (or even mild questioning about) his steady parade of sketchy decisions, his confident claims unsupported by scientific evidence, his relentless cascade of lies and failed predictions, and his miserable track record for keeping Americans healthy.

The locals call my vet partner and me the Teflon twins. Get us on a rugby field and we can’t land a ball to save ourselves

How the Confederate past is remembered is tied to the narrative of the Lost Cause, a term adopted by southern whites after the Civil War to describe defeat. The evolution of that narrative is complex. Not only did it offer a means for white southerners to come to terms with defeat; they also used it to justify their failure to create a separate nation and to reject the idea that slavery was a primary cause of the Civil War. It made Teflon heroes out of its generals, especially Robert E. Lee and Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson, and it also romanticized the Old South and recast Reconstruction as the “Tragic Era” that had allowed uncivilized and ignorant freedmen to govern their former masters.

eggs and curried chicken salad and double fudge brownies. That was all she was good at: eating. In the summer the Castles, the Alistairs, and the Randolphs all went to the beach together. When they were younger, they would play flashlight tag, light a bonfire, and sing Beatles songs, with Mr. Randolph playing the guitar and Penny’s voice floating above everyone else’s. But at some point Demeter had stopped feeling comfortable in a bathing suit. She wore shorts and oversized T-shirts to the beach, and she wouldn’t go in the water, wouldn’t walk with Penny to look for shells, wouldn’t throw the Frisbee with Hobby and Jake. The other three kids always tried to include Demeter, which was more humiliating, somehow, than if they’d just ignored her. They were earnest in their pursuit of her attention, but Demeter suspected this was their parents’ doing. Mr. Randolph might have offered Jake a twenty-dollar bribe to be nice to Demeter because Al Castle was an old friend. Hobby and Penny were nice to her because they felt sorry for her. Or maybe Hobby and Penny and Jake all had a bet going about who would be the one to break through Demeter’s Teflon shield. She was a game to them. In the fall there were football parties at the Alistairs’ house, during which the adults and Hobby and Jake watched the Patriots, Penny listened to music on her headphones, and Demeter dug into Zoe Alistair’s white chicken chili and topped it with a double spoonful of sour cream. In the winter there were weekends at Stowe. Al and Lynne Castle owned a condo near the mountain, and Demeter had learned to ski as a child. According to her parents, she used to careen down the black-diamond trails without a moment’s hesitation. But by the time they went to Vermont with the Alistairs and the Randolphs, Demeter refused to get on skis at all. She sat in the lodge and drank hot chocolate until the rest of the gang came clomping in after their runs, rosy-cheeked and winded. And then the ski weekends, at least, had stopped happening, because Hobby had basketball and Penny and Jake were in the school musical, which meant rehearsals night and day. Demeter thought back to all those springs, summers, falls, and winters with Hobby and Penny and Jake, and she wondered how her parents could have put her through such exquisite torture. Hobby and Penny and Jake were all exceptional children, while Demeter was seventy pounds overweight, which sank her self-esteem, which led to her getting mediocre grades when she was smart enough for A’s and killed her chances of landing the part of Rizzo in Grease, even though she was a gifted actress. Hobby was in a coma. Her mother was on the phone. She kept

Sürekli sosyal tırmanışlar peşinde saçmalıktan saçmalığa koşan teflon insanlar, güçoburlar, yüzeysellikle donanmış olan irtifaperver'ler, gerçeği tüketip yalanla beslenenler...Süveyda, sen akıl hastanesinde bile kendine ve başkalarına rahat rahat dil çıkaramamaktan yakınıyorsun, millet ulu orta sürekli hareket çekiyor! Bence pek çoğumuz akıllı taklidi yapmayı bıraktık ama evreni kanatmak pahasına sonuna kadar kendimiz olmaya hazır mıyız? Sanmıyorum. Sadece ruhuma izinsiz girişler yapılmasın, bunu diliyorum.

NON-STICK MIND Our mind has little hooks, it whirls around and catches onto everything. It is like Velcro - our mind sees something vaguely attractive and it catches. What we need to do is to retract these hooks. Have a Teflon mind, so things don’t stick. A non-stick mind - that is what we need. Then whatever we see, we can appreciate, but we don’t catch onto it. The Buddha said that the cause of our suffering is this grasping mind, this clinging mind which catches onto things. That is what causes suffering, not the things themselves. But the fact is that we catch on and can't let go, and since everything is impermanent, we suffer.

Unfortunately, the man’s made of Teflon. Nothing sticks. He should’ve been locked up a dozen times, but there isn’t a judge in the state with the balls to convict him. Even if we could, he has friends that can make almost anyone disappear . . . new name, new passport, and wipe them off the map as if they’d never existed.

Evolutionary biologists back up this premise. They describe how our amygdala uses about two thirds of its neurons scanning for threats. As a result, painful and frightening events are more easily stored in our long-term memory than pleasant events. Scientists call this default mechanism a “negativity bias,” and it makes perfect sense. Our very survival depends on being able to screen out potential attacks. “The mind is like Velcro for negative experiences,” says neuropsychologist Rick Hanson, “and Teflon for positive ones.

There’s a term for this irrational fear of joy: cherophobia (chero is the Greek word for “rejoice”). People with cherophobia are like Teflon pans in terms of pleasure — it doesn’t stick (though pain cakes on them as if to an ungreased surface). It’s common for people with traumatic histories to expect disaster just around the corner. Instead of leaning into the goodness that comes their way, they become hypervigilant, always waiting for something to go wrong.

Como ilustração das mudanças de direção nos rumos tomados pelos negócios, uma guinada racional e oportunista, tenha em mente o seguinte exemplo: a Coca-Cola começou como um produto farmacêutico. A Tiffany & Co., chiquérrima empresa do ramo de comércio de joias, foi fundada como loja de artigos de papelaria. Os dois exemplos talvez sejam próximos, mas veja este: a Raytheon, que criou o primeiro sistema de orientação de mísseis, era uma fabricante de geladeiras (um de seus fundadores foi ninguém menos que Vannevar Bush, que concebeu o modelo linear teleológico de ciência que vimos anteriormente; vai entender!). Agora, pior: a Nokia, que costumava ser a maior fabricante mundial de telefones celulares, começou como uma fábrica de papel (em algum momento, dedicou-se à produção de sapatos de borracha). A DuPont, empresa hoje famosa por suas panelas antiaderentes de teflon, bancadas de cozinha de corian e o resistente tecido kevlar, no início era uma fabricante de explosivos. A Avon, empresa de cosméticos, começou vendendo livros de porta em porta. E, a mais estranha de todas, a Oneida Silversmiths, fabricante de artigos de prata, era um culto comunitário religioso, mas, por motivos de regulamentação legal, precisou usar como disfarce o modelo de sociedade anônima.

Look, I say. You can't just let your thoughts float around in the ether and hope eventually they'll connect with something. It's absurd. No, it's not, Gil says. Lots of good things happen that way. Penicillin. Teflon. Smart dust. Something happens that you weren't expecting and it shifts the outcome completely. You have to be open to it. When I open my brain, I tell him, things bounce around and fall out. They don't connect with anything. Maybe I haven't got enough points of reference stored up yet. You're young, he says, that's probably it. When I let my thoughts float around, I trust that they'll latch on to something useful in the end or make an association I wouldn't necessarily have predicted. I'm trusting that they'll find the right thought to complete, all by themselves. The right bit of fact to ping. You have to trust your brain sometimes.

AIDS activists afterward learned that at the same time Dr. Fauci was telling them and Senator Kennedy’s office that he was finally testing AL 721, Teflon Tony was confiding to his Pharma PIs that he had rigged the AL 721 studies to fail: “I wanted to debunk it,” he reassured them.76 Just as he would do with hydroxychloroquine during the COVID crisis thirty years later, he designed his AL 721 clinical trials in a way that would ensure their failure

Your brain is like Velcro for negative experiences and Teflon for positive ones—even though most of your experiences are probably neutral or positive.

In the late 1960s, visionaries like von Braun predicted that Apollo would promptly usher in reusable spacecrafts, lunar colonies, manned missions to Mars, and space-based industries. 205 Today, Apollo has become an icon of nostalgic futurism—an artifact of a past in which the future was expected to be radically different from the present. If we want to understand and recover the symbolic meaning of Apollo, and the Promethean ethos that underlies it, we shouldn’t focus on its minor material spillovers, like the popularization of Teflon, Tang, and Velcro.

The brain is like Velcro for negative experiences but Teflon for positive ones.”8

The Teflon woman. No one sticks to her.

he was finally testing AL 721, Teflon Tony was confiding to his Pharma PIs that he had rigged the AL 721 studies to fail: “I wanted to debunk it,” he reassured them.76 Just as he would do with hydroxychloroquine during the COVID crisis thirty years later, he designed his AL 721 clinical trials in a way that would ensure their failure and thus discredit the unpatentable medicine. Dr. Fauci told the Burroughs Wellcome PIs who dominated his “independent” committee, “Let’s put the thing into trial and get it over with once and for all.”77 Nussbaum’s verdict: “If there was any chance for a fair test for AL 721, it wasn’t going to come from Tony Fauci’s clinical trials system.”78 At first, his devious plan backfired. Instead of debunking AL 721, the NIAID study confirmed that AL 721 stopped viral replication. When those promising results began emerging, Dr. Fauci and his PIs cancelled the trial, making sure that AL 721 never went to Phase 2. Dr. Fauci told skeptical activists that he could not get any volunteers to enroll in the study. (In 2021, he would invoke the same bunko to kill NIAID’s ivermectin trials.) Around the same time, activists realized that Dr. Fauci’s vows to test aerosol pentamidine—which he admitted before Congress was effective—were a subterfuge. Dr. Fauci opened clinical trials for aerosol pentamidine but again claimed, disingenuously, that he couldn’t populate them.