Here’s a curiosity survey. Refugees are in the news lately, both those from Central America and those from the Middle East. What do you think our policy should be on the number we choose to admit each year?

UPDATE: The survey is now closed. I’ll post results on Saturday.

Here’s something a little different. Last Thursday, as usual, I was casting around for something to do on Evil Dex Night, and I decided to see if I could get a picture of the moon setting over the water. The best nearby place for that is Laguna Beach, where the moon sets behind some rocks, not just over a vast, empty ocean. This is what I got.

I was a little south of Treasure Island Beach, shooting as far away as I could get from the rocks with the longest zoom setting I could use. If you’re wondering why the rocks are so bright, it’s because there’s a light on the beach that shines in that direction. At first this annoyed me, but a little before midnight the light shut off and I discovered that I couldn’t take any pictures at all without it. Not only was the exposure all but impossible, but I couldn’t even focus the camera with no light. This is the price you pay for a supernaturally long zoom lens: “infinity” wanders around as you change the focal length, and you have to find it manually if it’s too dark for autofocus to work. Unfortunately, if it’s too dark for autofocus, it’s usually too dark for manual focus too. The LCD screen is just too noisy.

Luckily, I took this one while the light was still on and the moon was just high enough for the autofocus to lock onto. The reason it’s in black-and-white is not because I planned it that way. It’s because, for some reason, the picture looks hideous in color. I’m not quite sure why. Maybe I just didn’t play around with it enough.

Finally, a friend of mine weighs in on the angry uncle:

The outspoken family member or guest is a long tradition that I’ve only witnessed sporadically because we generally all have the same left-leaning — or, if you will, sane — bent. I’ve definitely seen it though. And when you draw one, it’s no fun. There is a thing that happens at family get togethers with members of the opposite politics. It is alcohol. And alcohol has a habit of making it seem like people are not hearing you or getting your point, so you need to repeat it, more loudly and more definitively to make the intended impact. And make people understand the error of their ways. But then that seems to just make people ignore you more and so you give it another try. This repeats several cycles until it’s time to go home.  The louder you are the earlier that time seems to come.

I have conservative friends who are oblivious to the phenomenon as well because their families are just like mine — perfectly normal and reasonable people who share common beliefs — except theirs are grounded in the fundamental conviction that minorities, women and gays are taking something that’s rightfully theirs for reasons they can’t seem to pin down.

Now this is some good advice! It won’t solve everything, but how about trying an alcohol-free Thanksgiving? I once had some folks over for dinner and all we had around the house was a couple of bottles of wine. So that was it. At the end of the dinner, a couple of the guests (who we hadn’t met before) praised the food and then commented that the whole dinner had been unusually enjoyable because there hadn’t been much alcohol. I gathered that they were used to getting fairly sloshed over their meals and found a clear-headed dinner to be sort of a delightful anomaly.

In other words, this is so crazy it might work! You could go the full alcohol-free route, or do what we accidentally did, and simply have very limited alcohol. This provides two big benefits:

• Angry Uncle Tucker won’t get plastered, which might make him a little more tractable.
• If this doesn’t work, it’s possible that he’ll be more pissed off about the lack of booze than whatever Hillary has done lately. Given a choice, I think that listening to him grumble about liquor is preferable to grumbling about Hillary.

Now, if you’re a Mormon or Christian Scientist family, this won’t do any good since your dinners are already alcohol free. But for the rest of us, it’s good advice. And if your well-meaning nephew offers to “hop down to the store” since you’ve “run out” of beer and scotch, be sure to have a good story lined up in advance to keep him safely away from this idea. Five uncles.

According to CNN, Diana Butler Bass holds a Ph.D. in religious studies from Duke University and is the author of 10 books on American religion and culture, including Grateful: The Transformative Power of Giving Thanks. If you’re unable to bail out of Thanksgiving entirely, here is her advice:

If you must spend the holiday with a politically divided family, you can do some things to lessen anxiety, whether you are the host or a guest.

If you are the host, much of what happens at the dinner depends on what you do to make your guests — all your guests — feel safe and valued. Don’t assume people will get along….Provide “Rules for a Nonpartisan Thanksgiving” at each seat. Make them funny: no throwing food; no fights over dark or light meat or jellied versus whole-berry cranberry sauce; no flipping between FOX and MSNBC during dinner.

Hosts can also encourage meaningful talk in ways that respect others. Have guests write down what they are grateful for, put the slips in a jar, and then have people draw papers and read the thanks of others out loud.

….If you are brave, have your guests address politics directly. Ask those gathered when they’ve last had a meal with someone of a different political party or felt truly grateful for different opinions and perspectives. If you are a Republican, have a story ready from your own life about what you appreciate and what you’ve learned from your Democratic relatives (and the opposite for those of you who are Democrats).

If you are a guest […] prepare strategies for maintaining your cool. Have a “text-a-friend” ready. Use bathroom breaks tactically. Deflect controversy with jokes. Take a long walk after dinner. Put your therapist on speed-dial. Bring the greatest dessert ever as a gift; if you contribute good food, it is harder for people to get mad at you. If you decide to engage a political concern, do so with both facts and humor.

Once again, this is an awfully structured answer to the angry uncle problem. Given what I’ve observed about the willingness of people to plan and carry out structured get-togethers like this, I’m skeptical that it can work. If you have a whole family of Type B personalities, maybe. But if that’s the case, you probably don’t have much of a problem in the first place.

However, the final paragraph is genuinely useful and is totally under your control. If you know beforehand that angry Uncle Tucker is a problem, then think about avoidance and calming strategies before you ever show up. Learn to meditate before tomorrow at 3:00. Take a Valium or five as soon as you walk in the door. Say “eh?” a lot and tell your family you have an appointment to get your ears checked next week. Whatever works. Just for Bass’s advice to think ahead, I’m giving this four uncles.

After alienating half her family with a Facebook post following the 2016 election, Atlanta native Jenn Graham came up with the idea of the “Civic Dinner.” Here are the ground rules:

A diverse group of six to 10 people is assembled. It can be friends, colleagues, neighbors or strangers. Each participant pays a fee to cover the cost of the event, or brings a dish if it’s a potluck.

Current conversation topics at ARC-related meals include mobility, livability, affordable housing, aging, education and work. The host receives a packet that provides instructions for facilitating the dinner conversation. It also includes three “big questions” to ask each participant. Participants take turns, and the host acts as moderator.

“One of the things that’s nice about Jenn’s concept,” said Jenn Graham’s uncle, Richard Lysinger, “is it’s a formalized opportunity to have those kinds of conversations. Everybody knows the rules of the game.”

And now the $64 question:

Can we adopt that structure for our own family meals? Or what about for Thanksgiving? State Sen. Fran Millar, R-Dunwoody, who lost to Rep. Sally Harrell in the midterms, said now is the time, and the Thanksgiving table is as good a place as any to talk of important things. “What better time than the holiday season when we talk about peace on earth and good will toward men?” he said. “We can’t continue down this path of mutual destruction.”

Hmmm. This seems awfully structured for a Thanksgiving dinner. Will everyone agree to a moderated, round-robin discussion regulated by Robert’s Rules of Order? I’m having a hard time seeing it. But maybe! I think one of my readers should give this a try and report back on Friday. Two uncles.

Finally, here is the third in the New York Times trilogy of angry uncle advice. It’s from Lisa Lerer, the On Politics columnist:

Don’t mention President Trump
A SurveyMonkey audience poll conducted last year found that Mr. Trump was the biggest culprit in hijacking Thanksgiving dinner, with 37 percent of respondents saying mention of the president was most likely to start an argument.

Focus on the food
That’s part of how the Supreme Court justices help keep comity, according to Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Sonia Sotomayor. The justices host a steady stream of elaborate birthday lunches, retirement dinners and weekend bagel spreads. “We can’t talk about cases,” said Justice Sotomayor. “That’s our absolute rule.

Lay down the law
Some basic ground rules can help make everyone feel comfortable during the holiday. What do those look like? Well, maybe designate the living room as a “politics zone.” Or place certain topics off-limits. Hosts can play a big role in this process: Considering starting the night with a toast to civility, and arrange seats at the dinner table strategically.

Forget about winning
We know, it’s not that you want to win, it’s just, how could your mother/uncle/second cousin be so delusional! Wrong attitude. The key to successful conversations, according to a guide created by the founders of the Women’s March, is open-ended questions, no judgment, respect, and a balance of talking and listening. Basically, be kind. Remember: These people are (supposedly) your “loved ones.”

I dunno. This boils down to “Avoid politics, but if you can’t, move your fight into the living room.” Also, show lots of respect for your angry uncle and give him a fair hearing.

It’s not that this is bad advice. But it’s not very insightful. The whole point of the angry uncle exercise is to assume you have an angry uncle who’s going to spout obnoxious views whether you like it or not. Seating all the Fox fans at one end of the table is fine, and trying really hard to keep your cool is also a good idea. But I think most of us have already thought of these things. Two uncles.

At the North Jersey Record—and who knows more about fighting than folks from Jersey, amirite?—Cindy Schweich Handler also goes the academic route. Her piece is about Thanksgiving stresses in general, but naturally the angry uncle makes an appearance:

Build alliances. “Most people can predict what’s going to happen,” says Jill Cermele, a professor of psychology at Drew University in Madison. “Uncle Joe’s going to talk politics, Grandma will ask if you have a boyfriend, your brother’s going to ask what you’re doing after college.” Plan for quick ways to deflect the conversation — for example, “I don’t know about that, but I do know that this stuffing is incredible.” Theresa Licata McConnell, who grew up in Asbury Park and Ocean Township, knew that her guests held opposing views on divisive issues like politics, so she reached out to trusted Thanksgiving guests to help her avoid the topics, and redirect the conversation if it headed into dangerous territory.

Plan fun, (non-partisan) topics. Ask everyone to take a turn saying what they’re thankful for this year. Get a clipboard and get guests’ predictions for the next year on uncontroversial topics. What movie will win the Best Picture Oscar? Which football teams are going to the Super Bowl? Let everyone know that next year, you’ll reveal the winners.

Watch your own alcohol intake. “You want to be in your right mind, so if wine enhances that, good,” says Benanti. “But know what it is that takes you off-center. I have clients who hit that third glass, and all hell breaks loose.”

“This stuffing is incredible” isn’t exactly the subtlest way of redirecting a conversation, but it’s so crazy it might work! And football predictions! This is basically just a variation on “don’t get sucked into talking about politics no matter what,” but sometimes the classic strategies are the best.

But what moves this from three uncles to four is the final bit: don’t drink so much you get plastered. In fact, I recommend serving limited amounts of alcohol so no one can get too plastered. This is truly admirable advice. Four uncles.

The New York Times is ground zero for angry uncle advice. Here is the second of the three (yes, three) articles they ran this year about how to deal with your Fox-watchin’ uncle at Thanksgiving. This one takes a scientific approach, with advice from Peter Coleman, the director of the Morton Deutsch International Center for Cooperation and Conflict at Columbia University:

To discover what conditions are most likely to lead to positive outcomes, Dr. Coleman and his colleagues set up the Difficult Conversations Lab at Columbia Teacher’s College, where hundreds of conversations between people holding different political positions have been held since 2007.

….One participant, Amanda Ripley, a freelance journalist, said she learned that it is important not to oversimplify the issue, and to acknowledge that there is no single right or wrong answer….The researchers wanted to see if exposure to a complex argument before the session made the participants more thoughtful and open to considering other perspectives. Ms. Ripley said that was the case in her interaction. “If you give people something complicated to read before a conversation, it tends to go better. People are more open to information that doesn’t fit into their pre-existing narratives,” she observed.

….One of the most hopeful — if counterintuitive — findings from conflict resolution research is that most conflicts do eventually get amicably resolved. In his book “The Five Percent,” Dr. Coleman cites a study by the peace researchers Paul Diehl and Gary Goertz that shows that 95 percent of over a thousand international rivalries that they looked at since 1816 were successfully worked out through a process of compromise and negotiation. However, roughly 5 percent — like the Arab-Israeli conflict — stubbornly resist solution.

Science doesn’t yet know a lot about why some conflicts prove to be so intractable, while others are more easily solved, Dr. Coleman says….One way to improve the chances of each side actually hearing the other out is for individuals to talk more personally. “Don’t try to represent or defend a political party or class of people,” Ms. Parsa advised. “Speak for yourself. We ask folks to tell stories about their own life experience and how they have come to the views that they hold.”

This is … not so useful? First, what are the odds that your uncle is willing to read “something complicated” before settling down to spew racist crap that he learned last night from Tucker Carlson? Second, I’d put Thanksgiving feuds in the same class as the Arab-Israeli conflict: battles between people who know each other well and fight about the same things over and over and over. And third, the whole point of political arguments is that they’re about entire classes of people. If you’re speaking for yourself, it’s gossip or kvetching or whatever, but it’s not a political fight.

Given all this, I’d sort of like to dole out a negative score, but the best I can do is zero uncles.

Over at HuffPo, Doyin Richards says that enough is enough. It’s time to start kicking some avuncular butt:

Since the gathering is at your mom’s house, I’d start by talking to her about your uncle’s behavior and draw a very distinct line in the sand. No, don’t tell her that she needs to make her home a “politics-free zone” ― it’s good to have people show their true colors. Instead, tell her the moment your uncle unleashes offensive garbage toward your family, you’re going to grab your kids and leave.

Your mom might say you’re overreacting or being too sensitive, but I don’t think having a zero-tolerance policy for racism qualifies as either. And if she’s worth a damn as a grandmother, she will do whatever it takes to ensure her child ― and her grandchildren ― are as comfortable as possible.

That said, if she fails to get that message across to her brother, and if he does something offensive, you need to make a scene. Not a “square up and flip the furniture” scene, mind you, but enough to call out his behavior and, yes, straight-up embarrass him in front of everyone in attendance.

This certainly sounds cathartic, but the problem with it is pretty obvious: you should never make threats you aren’t willing to carry out. However, if you really are willing to pack up and leave at the first sign of racist crap from your uncle—and you’re willing to put up with the family-shattering stress this is likely to cause—then go right ahead. Just be aware that not everyone will necessarily be on your side if you do this. Also, it’s a waste of thousands of dollars in plane tickets and change fees if you had to fly to this gathering.

And what’s even worse, your uncle might well take this as a victory. I’d say that this is an absolute last-ditch strategy for someone with steely nerves and no particular desire to ever see their family again. That’s probably not many of you. One uncle.