Textbook Sleep

Welcome to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast, where we read aloud boring, public-domain textbooks to help you fall asleep.A listener recently informed us that she “used to read Ralph Waldo Emerson as a sleep aid, while in college.” It happened that the Textbook Sleep library contained a collection of his essays. One glance made it clear that Emerson’s writing was indeed perfect for our purposes.These stultifying essays have been putting people to sleep since they were first published in 1841. They are tried-and-true soporifics. Thomas Carlyle’s wife Jane Welsh Carlyle complained, “I find him getting affected, stilted… and in short 'a considerable of a bore.'”A big, sleepy thank you to our listener for the recommendation. We welcome any and all suggestions, the more considerable of a bore the better. Let us strike the official Textbook Sleep bronze bell, then, with the official Textbook Sleep teaspoon, to signal the end of everyday cares—and the start of a satisfying, long night’s sleep. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Here’s a question posed by The Book of Wonders, published in 1915: “How many have ever given a thought to the question of where rope comes from and how it is made, or realize what a variety of uses it is put to, and how dependent we are upon it in many of the everyday affairs of life?”The answer is easy. No one. And that makes it the perfect story to fall asleep to. Not gently. But hard, instantly. Hello and welcome to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast. We read aloud boring, public-domain textbooks to help you fall asleep.Last week we learned how paint is made. Unexpectedly, some listeners found it interesting. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen again. If rope isn’t boring, I don’t know what is.In fact, before the advent of modern anesthesia, many patients were force-read stories about rope.You’ll hear about cordage, hackling, spreaders, the four-stand compound laying-machine, and draw frames. Or you would, if you were still awake.We begin by ringing the official Textbook Sleep bronze bell three times with the official Textbook Sleep teaspoon.Its sound has been clinically proven to cause Hypnos, the Greek god of sleep, to leave his dark underworld cave and visit each and every one of you in rapid succession. Soon, you’ll be sleeping like a cat in a sunbeam. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Watching paint dry—a famously boring exercise. Tonight, we will surpass that level of tedium, by hearing how paint is made.Welcome to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast. We read extremely boring public-domain textbooks to help you fall asleep. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

In the beginning was the word.But we couldn’t remember the word, because we couldn’t write it down.Welcome to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast that reads aloud boring, public-domain textbooks to put you to sleep.Tonight’s textbook examines the mysteries of how things work, and how they came to be. Including writing. In fact, it leads with writing as the invention that made all others possible, or at least able to be passed down through the generations.The Book of Wonders, published in 1915, is edited and arranged by Rudolph J. Bodmer.If you were awake, which you won’t be, you’d hear me drone on about the “Age of Stone,” where a “long, tapering instrument of stone, the first pen, was invented.” Asleep, you won’t hear me mention that the Egyptians, in the 14th or 15th century B.C., invented an iron stylus to mark soapstone, limestone, and waxed surfaces.And look where it has led. Not just to immortal works of literature like The Odyssey, Hamlet, and Jonathan Livingston Seagull, but to this very podcast. If that’s not progress, it’s hard to imagine what is.Let us begin by ringing our dragon-handled bronze Vietnamese bell three times, with the official Textbook Sleep spoon. Sweet dreams, listener.This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast that reads aloud boring public-domain textbooks to help you fall asleep.What a treat we have for you tonight. While in Textbook Sleep #11 we delved into the theory of accounting, now we get even more specific, more dull, more brain numbing. Who knows what the “voucher system” is? I don’t, and I doubt you do, either. Fortunately, you will not learn what is, as you will be sound asleep. I will not learn—I will make word sounds not but understand them. What constitutes a “joint-stock company” will remain a mystery to both of us. Tonight’s textbook, Cyclopedia of Commerce, Accountancy, and Business Administration was “prepared by a Corps of Auditors, Accountants, Attorneys, and Specialists in Business Methods and Management” in 1910. We read from the fourth of 10 volumes.But none of what I read will be on the quiz, because there is no quiz. There will also be no 18-page paper to turn in, no final exam.In the immortal words of T. Rex, let’s bang a gong, get it on. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Have you ever eaten the king of nuts, the budded or grafted paper shell pecan?That’s the grabber introductory sentence of a sales letter in Business English by Rose Buhlig of Tilden High School in Chicago, published in 1914.You will not hear me read it, as you will be already sawing logs. But I wanted to give you a little sample of the supreme soporificness of tonight’s lesson on writing.Welcome to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast that reads aloud boring public-domain textbooks to help you fall asleep.We’ll examine the Introduction, the Salutation, the Courteous Close, even how to fold a letter. This is Buhlig’s dogged thoroughness, a boon for budding salespeople, but even more useful to loyal Textbook Sleep listeners.Did you know the kernel of the grafted or shell paper pecan is as nutritious as beef and as sweet as honey?Let’s begin by gently ringing the bronze Vietnamese bells, the signal for us to put aside care and worry—and replace it with approaches to writing a letter requesting payment.Additionally, have you found that the Holeless Socks are coming up to our guarantee? We feel they merit their popularity. If you need more of them, we can make shipment at once.This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Business English is just like English English, only more twisted and tortured and obfuscatory. If you’re good at it.Fortunately for our purposes, it is also—almost without exception—incredibly boring. Welcome to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast that reads aloud boring public domain textbooks to help you fall asleep.Tonight’s textbook, from 1914, is Business English by Rose Buhlig of Tilden High School in Chicago. We will begin with Part I, Chapter I: Interesting Words. But they are not at all interesting. They will certainly not keep you from falling asleep, practically unable to awaken as if their multisyllabic monotony has cast a magical spell over you that not even the kiss of a handsome prince or princess could break. A dog or cat might do it, however—even a Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast can’t do anything about that. Let us begin with our new bell chimes that expunge care and worry from all those who hear them.This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Have you ever had a hankering to learn about the Codling Moth? The Cankerworm? The Hessian Fly? Of course not. They are not only deadly to crops, they are deadly boring. In other words, perfect subjects for Textbook Sleep, the podcast that reads aloud boring public domain textbooks to help you fall asleep.It has come to my attention that some listeners play Textbook Sleep while doing chores, as something to relax to. We counsel against this, as you may find yourself waking up on the floor next to the washing machine or on top of the vacuum cleaner. We are, after all, a Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid—nonprescription but habit-forming. Thus we continue tonight with Agriculture for Beginners by Burkett, Stevens, and Hill, first published in 1903. You will likely be asleep before we get to “the troublesome Chinch Bug.” Few will make it to the Twig Girdler. Let us begin. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to another episode of Textbook Sleep, the podcast that reads aloud boring public domain textbooks to help you fall asleep. My voice is also boring. When I speak to people on the phone, it’s not unusual that I hear snoring and have to hang up. Tonight we read again from Agriculture for Beginners, by Burkett, Stevens and Hill, first published in 1903. We’ll be hearing about hotbeds, Cold-Frames, celery, tomatoes, striped cucumber beetles and something called dewberries, whatever they are. To be more accurate, I’ll be hearing about them, you will be fast asleep. Maybe you will dream about dewberries, about putting a dollop of whipped cream on them, or baking them into a pie. I hope that you do not dream instead about striped cucumber beetles. Let us proceed with Horticulture, Section XXV. Pull up the blanket. Adjust your pillow. And sleep my pretties, sleep.This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to another episode of Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid. We read aloud boring public domain textbooks to help you fall asleep. This time we’ll be exploring Agriculture for Beginners, by Burkett, Stevens and Hill, first published in 1903. Today, few of us work in agriculture, the profession that keeps us alive and yet we take for granted. The information contained herein may be the most valuable to humankind ever assembled in one book, unless we intend to go back to being hunters and gatherers, and there are no Pringles in that world, so forget it. That doesn’t mean it’s not boring—there is an entire chapter on Feed Stuffs and seven pages on the Cotton-Boll Weevil. My eyelids are already drooping. A listener in California writes, “Now I am suffering from somnia,” and perhaps you will be, too. Let us get to it, then.This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast, combs the planet to find the most boring public domain textbooks to read aloud to help you fall asleep. Tonight we continue with one of our greatest discoveries: A History of Experimental Psychology by Professor Edwin Boring. In 1950, it sold 16,765 copies, an indication to me that 16,765 people were trying to self-medicate their sleeplessness by reading it before bed. You, on the other, can simply listen to my voice, which has a soporific quality that sometimes renders people unconscious as I speak to them at parties. They drop like a stone. Surely it’s not my conversational chops that’s lacking.Let us let Professor Boring bore us to sleep, then. We’ll begin with his description of the third decade of experimental psychology, going all the way back to 1880. If you hear any long pauses, it’s possible I myself have nodded off. It’s a risk I take. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Well, we have hit the mother load of boring textbooks to read from: A History of Experimental Psychology by—wait for it—Edwin G. Boring, Professor of Psychology at Harvard University. You would have thought that this poor man would have tried to overcompensate for his family name with lively writing on a subject others might find interesting. But no. Boring is boring, at least to me, and I hope you will find his 1929, 710-page tome sleep-inducing as well. With this ponderous discovery, Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast enters a new, even more powerful realm of soporific communication. Dare we now call it Textbook Sleep, the Ultra-Strength Sleep-Aid? Okay, let’s pull up the covers. Or maybe, the lever on the La-Z-Boy. It’s sleepy time. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

The Machinery of the Universe. Hang on, that actually sounds interesting! Not to worry—it’s not. It’s physics, but with an interesting title—academic bait and switch. But for the purposes of Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast, this 1915 public-domain book by A. E. Dolbear, A.B., A.M., M.E., Ph.D., Professor of Physics and Astronomy at Tufts College, is just right for settling us in to a long winter’s nap. Your Apple Watch may wonder if you’ll ever wake up. It’s just the machinery of the universe, working perfectly to power you to sleep. Let’s start, shall we?This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum Strength, aural sleep aid, in which I read from soporific public domain textbooks. Subjects that once put you to sleep in the classroom or library, now putting you to sleep in bed. On tonight’s syllabus we’ll listen to another chapter of General Science by Dr. Bertha M. Clark, this time on fermentation. Like few subjects, fermentation foments sleep. It won’t kill you to listen to it, but it is deadly boring. Pull up the covers. It’s time to begin. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Hello and welcome to another episode of Textbook Sleep, the non-prescription yet habit-forming Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid. Time-released every Wednesday night at 8:30 Eastern Time. Tonight we continue to read from General Science by Bertha M. Clark, Ph.D. Dr. Clark was the Head of the Science Department at the William Penn High School for Girls in Philadelphia. The school opened in 1909, went co-ed in 1974, and closed in 2010. General Science was published in 1912. Its only downside, for our purposes, is that it often veers into interesting territory. But I will try to read it in velvety, sleep-inducing tones. You will not be conscious long once you start hearing about acids, bases, and here’s the kicker… washing powders. If I can hold my own head up—and that’s a big if—we may even get to nitrogen and its relation to plants. There will be no quiz on this material.Are you still awake? Let us commence. This podcast will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid, where I read extremely boring public-domain textbooks to help people fall asleep. We continue with General Science by Bertha M. Clark, Ph.D. Specifically, we’ll hear what Dr. Clark has to say about photography, or I will anyway—you’ll be lulled to sleep, hearing me speak of movable convex lenses, sodium thiosulphite, and sensitive plates left to dry in dark rooms. Today we all carry a camera in our pockets, but in 1912, when this textbook was written, a photograph was far more complicated to take. Which was great in that no one could take a selfie, let alone post it on so-called social media. Still, it’s all terribly tedious, which is just perfect for our purposes. Smile. And sleep.This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Water is important. Don’t take my word for it, take that of Bertha M. Clark, Ph.D., Head of the Science Department at the William Penn High School for Girls in Philadelphia. She made this claim in General Science in 1912, and I see no reason to question whether it is not just as true today. We are constantly being told to drink glass after glass of water and many carry a large container of water with them everywhere, the better to “hydrate.” I myself hydrate by drinking cup after cup of coffee, until I can feel my brain’s synapses vibrating like an old-fashioned alarm bell that no one can quite figure out how to shut off. But there will be no alarm bells going off tonight. Instead, I will read Dr. Clark’s wise, watery words from 113 years ago, and you can drift away on them, into sleep. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Most of us have probably not given much thought to the “mingling of molecules.” For good reason: It’s stunningly boring, no matter how important it may be to our daily lives. Fortunately for us, Carleton W. Washburne wrote an entire chapter on it in his Common Science textbook in 1921, and it’s been waiting 104 years to lull us to sleep. It was meant for high schoolers and yet I suspect you will not be able to follow along— you will be long unconscious before any mingling occurs. I, on the other hand, will have to read it, not understanding any two sentences in a row, as I studied only English back when that was a thing. If the world depended on me for scientific enlightenment, we would be quickly plunged back into the Dark Ages, with no shampoos that both clean and moisturize or other wonderments of our age. Sure, they had cars back in 1921, but no heated seats, no Wolfman Jack, no In-N-Out Burger drive-thru lanes to queue up in. Let us imagine mingling with a Double-Double and begin. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast, asks, “what could possibly be duller than a Text-Book of Biology by H.G. Wells? Specifically, the chapter on the biology of a rabbit? Yes, that H.G. Wells—the guy who wrote The War of the Worlds, The Time Machine, and The Island of Doctor Moreau. He was also a biologist. And wrote an entire textbook on the subject. To me, it’s a little less compelling than The Invisible Man and probably didn’t move as many copies, but who knows? At Textbook Sleep, “less compelling” is a good thing. It promises a soothing night’s rest. And—if time allows—we’ll include Wells’ take on the circulation of the dog-fish. In the unlikely event someone listening is still awake, they won’t be for long after that. Let us begin. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid. Tonight’s reading will rapidly render you unconscious. It’s Organic Chemistry, a textbook from 1894 by W.H. Perkin and F. Stanley Kipping. Some find “Orgo” to be a fascinating pathway to a rewarding career, but most of us consider it a subject to be avoided at all costs. There’s no reason to steer clear of it now—it’s incomprehensible complexity will lull you to sleep, even if someone is using a jackhammer in your room. This particular textbook is even more boring than listening to, say, the Periodic Table of the Elements, a Textbook Sleep for another day, perhaps. Let us begin. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

It’s difficult to imagine a subject more stupefyingly dull than accounting. It makes economics seem like a Michael Bay movie. Thus, you will soon experience a long, restful sleep. Because we’re going to read from Accounting, Theory and Practice, “a text-book for colleges and schools of business administration,” by Roy B. Kester, Ph.D. This particular edition, published in 1922, is dedicated to his father and mother, in “appreciation for their steadfast interest in my work.” They were, no doubt, feigning interest. Of course, the world as we know it would cease turning without accounting, so we can be grateful for it—and for the bright women and men who do find it engaging. They make oodles of money, so do not pity them. In fact, “oodles of money” is one of the first terms they learn. Once again, I must warn you not to operate heavy or even light machinery while listening to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid. Consider my friend Mike, who reported: “I killed my Sonicare after just two quadrants, so as not to take undue risk.” Let us proceed with similar caution. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

There are certain chapters in great works of literature that must be skimmed, or better yet, skipped altogether. In Moby-Dick, that would be Chapter 32, “Cetology.” Cetology—the branch of biology that studies whales, dolphins, and porpoises—is not of much interest to the general reader. In fact, it causes many of them to put down the novel and never again pick it up, thus Moby-Dick is one of those classics, like Infinite Jest or Gravity’s Rainbow, that no one reads. Let’s put the chapter to a better use—to induce sleep. Surely Melville used to read this chapter himself, when he needed to fall asleep. Just like him, you will become quickly unconscious… drifting down to the ocean’s midnight zone, where sperm whales echolocate in this deep, dreamy place where you’ll spend eight or so hours of rest, safe from Ahab’s barbs. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

We’re going back in time tonight, searching for the dullest of dull writing to put you into a deep sleep. Soon after I begin to read from Principles of Geology by Sir Charles Lyell, M.A., F.R.S.—that is, Fellow of the Royal Society—you will experience something akin to that sensation immediately before your colonoscopy begins. If you count backwards to 10, you won’t make it to nine. Lights out. Sweet dreams. You’ll wake up without any memory of tonight’s procedure. It’s not the fault of Sir Charles. It’s the subject of geology itself. It can only be grasped in geologic timeframes, that is, over millions of years of dedicated study. We have but one night and you won’t be conscious for much of it. Let us go then, shall we, to Naples, Italy, not for its pizza, like any sane person, but to hear about its volcanic vents. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid. Tonight, your cares will dissolve as I read from The Ethics of Aristotle. You will never find out exactly what those ethics were, you will be sound asleep, probably within minutes. In Athens, Aristotle was known for putting entire audiences to sleep with his lectures. It was all the same to him, he got his money upfront. When I read from these pages, you should know that I am giving myself periodic electric shocks to stay awake—I am no less susceptible to his soporific writing than you are—so if you hear any electronic buzzing in the background, or my voice suddenly becoming shrill, you’ll know the reason. Let’s go back to ancient Greece, then. There’s no easier place to fall asleep. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Before I start to read this ancient Greek historian, who has dependably caused heads to nod for thousands of years, I’d like to remind you not to operate heavy machinery—or even light machinery—while listening to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid podcast. It has come to my attention that some young people, as a dare, are listening to the podcast not from the safety of their bed, but while doing ordinary household chores or daily tasks. This has resulted in unfortunate incidents including mixed white and red laundry loads, and badly positioned cutlery in the dishwasher, including spoons that nest. Textbook Sleep cannot be held responsible—passages from Herodotus are too powerfully sleep-inducing to take such chances. Now that you’ve been warned, draw up the covers, and let us begin.This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

He’s back and more boring than ever: Sleep therapist Immanuel Kant. Tonight on Textbook Sleep we’ll be continuing our nightly sleep-a-thon with another chapter of his Critique of Pure Reason, philosophical Sominex for generations of unfortunate students. It is reasonable to expect you won’t hear much of it, because you’ll be snoring so loudly. Fortunately, you won’t be expected to write a paper on it, or underline any of the many mystifying passages in yellow highlighter. There will be no quiz, no exam, no unintelligible questions in class. Just deep and restful sleep. Let’s go there together, shall we?This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Hello and welcome to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid, please do not listen while operating heavy machinery. Tonight I’ll be presenting another reading from one of the world’s dullest books.It’s a doozy—The Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant. It’s philosophy, but we are not brought together tonight for insight, for an epiphany, we just want to zonk out. Perhaps when you wake, wisdom will somehow be imparted to you, but I doubt it. Your sleeping brain, your “unconscious,” will take you to a place without Kant’s unintelligible philosophical musings; maybe it will take you to where I like to go, to Italy, where people debate the primacy of one gelato flavor over another, or what scarf or cravat to wear on the evening’s passeggiata, the evening promenade through town. These should be the only issues of real importance in life, and the only ones you may grapple with tonight as you sleep deeply and restfully.Imagine then, that you are a naïve student, talked into taking a philosophy course by a classmate whose advice you have not yet learned to ignore. You have gone to the library to catch up on 150 pages of reading, your first assignment, and last, because you will sensibly drop the course. All is still, the library is almost empty. Light filters in through the window, a beam of it enveloping and warming your body. Your head feels heavy; your neck, weak. For just a little while, why not rest it upon the desk, no one will see. It’s time for the passeggiata, for a stroll, with a stop for a cioccolato all’arancia, that is, an orange-chocolate gelato—yes, that is where you are heading, I’m sure of it. Let’s get you on your way…This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to this special edition of Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid—special because it will be incomprehensible to most of us, and certainly to me. Few of us have the stomach or brains to study electrical and computer engineering. Even for the mathematically gifted, it is a death march through one impossibly difficult course after another. Tonight I will read about electronic components, from the only textbook in this subject with words I could remotely hope to pronounce. It is Open Circuits by Eric Schlaepfer and Wendell H. Oskay. You will almost immediately zonk out. Your last conscious thought will be how grateful you are not to be an engineering student, even if they eventually amass more riches than Scrooge McDuck. Ready... set… sleep. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Imagine that, for some misguided reason you’ll later regret, you decide to take a course in Gothic art. Perhaps you had heard it was a “gut,” an easy A—look, it’s not Biochem. And then you are assigned a book about the subject by noted art historian Andrew Martindale. It’s not him that’s the problem, it’s you. You can’t get through a single paragraph without starting over. It ain’t TikTok. It’s learned and dense and long. It uses words like “transepts.” And “pulpitum.” And “portals,” which we’ll turn into portals to a good night’s sleep. Because this is Textbook Sleep, and no one can withstand an onslaught of insights about the Dark Ages at night in your own comfortable bed. Cursed insomnia curses to hear us begin, and retreats, knowing that for tonight, it is banished. Thanks—if that’s the right word—to writer Polly Walker Blakemore for sending me this sleep-inducing tome. This recording will end quietly. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back to Textbook Sleep, the Maximum-Strength Sleep Aid.In our first episode, I read from Chapter 1 of Samuelson and Nordhaus’s legendary and tedious Economics.Now we jump ahead to Chapter 24, into something called “The Multiplier Model.”Prepare for a deep, restorative sleep... Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe

Hear me say the word “econometrics” for the first time in my life and mispronounce chez lounge. Let me know what other textbooks you’d like to fall asleep to. Get full access to Pieces of Jim at jimnolan1.substack.com/subscribe