Scenes from my outbox
I have a thing about people who form conclusions about me based on things unrelated people did . . . . I suppose that could be one of those things that will hurt me from time to time, but to me it's an illegitimate way to think, kind of like stereotyping about what all in group X are like or whatever. I ordinarily don't make accommodations for that sort of thing, and certainly not on spec. So if someone ends up having some idiosyncratic issue I feel like that's not really within my control. If I'm negotiating a treaty with the Russians, and they say "Oh, well, the Germans double-crossed us so we don't trust you either", my response is to give that no credence because I'M NOT THE GERMANS AND IF YOU THINK I'M GOING TO BE LIKE THE GERMANS YOU'RE PRETTY FUCKING STUPID TO BE NEGOTIATING WITH ME IN THE FIRST PLACE--AND, BY THE WAY, I'M A LITTLE INSULTED THAT YOU THINK I'M GOING TO BE LIKE THE GERMANS.
Labels: MWR: master of the WWII metaphor, scenes from my outbox, what passes for introspection
posted at 9:37 PM
1 Comments:
If this is your online dating profile we might need to have an intervention.
"I'm an attractive, educated, fit and employed erudite who is prone to jumping off the deep end. Take my hand and let's jump together!"
Seriously, I hope you held it in your mailbox for at least an hour before hitting send.
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