death of concussion boy
For those of you on the gauche coast, the big Ken Jennings episode is on replay tonight. For those of you on the other coast, it’s past your bedtime. For the rest of you, find a coast so I can be proud to be your friend, dammit.
It’s difficult for someone like me to face value enjoy the company of others, no surprise there. So, in the process of sampling other people, I’ve begun to try my hand at finding the good in people. So even though she can’t seem to stop discussing how her ex is now dating an 18-year-old, at least she has good teeth. Or, even though he can’t seem to stop talking about himself, at least he’s got enough confidence to think others care. And so on…
But every now and then, you meet someone that is just fundamentally unredeemable. And in my classes, I had found an example of just such a character. Every mention of DNA sends this guy onto a Rosalind Franklin pity party. His questions are uninformed and copious, and despite my efforts to send a diplomatic email to quell the outbursts of his scientific ego, he refuses to be Dev roadkill. Kind of like a soap opera villain that returns time and again as an evil twin or a ghost or what have you.
So yesterday, at a seminar, it just all made sense. We were listening to a talk from a professor, at the conclusion of which, the professor asks if anyone had been through any serious head trauma. And the guy was hit by a car and suffered a childhood concussion, and finally the universe rebalanced and it all became clear. And though I now have one less target in the world (because you just can’t make fun of disabled people), it also means that I also have a vacancy in that department. Any takers?
I promised I wouldn't mention her name, but a certain mother of mine called me up last night all pensive and anxious, knowing full well that blog-conversation was off limits. So, I eventually coaxed out of her the nature of her difficulties: she felt that these profanities I use so liberally are borderline middle-lower class, and that's just not okay. So, I spent the greater part of an hour debating the merits of the f-bomb. It's a fun little debate I haven't had with myself in years, you should try it sometime. Anyhow, the cursing is out, because mother wants me to be a politician, and the Internet is forever.
And finally, "overheard in LA," the first in a series:
"He called me 'sunshine' instead of 'honey' today -- what do you think that means?"
"I think sucking your gut all day is probably a good ab workout"
It’s difficult for someone like me to face value enjoy the company of others, no surprise there. So, in the process of sampling other people, I’ve begun to try my hand at finding the good in people. So even though she can’t seem to stop discussing how her ex is now dating an 18-year-old, at least she has good teeth. Or, even though he can’t seem to stop talking about himself, at least he’s got enough confidence to think others care. And so on…
But every now and then, you meet someone that is just fundamentally unredeemable. And in my classes, I had found an example of just such a character. Every mention of DNA sends this guy onto a Rosalind Franklin pity party. His questions are uninformed and copious, and despite my efforts to send a diplomatic email to quell the outbursts of his scientific ego, he refuses to be Dev roadkill. Kind of like a soap opera villain that returns time and again as an evil twin or a ghost or what have you.
So yesterday, at a seminar, it just all made sense. We were listening to a talk from a professor, at the conclusion of which, the professor asks if anyone had been through any serious head trauma. And the guy was hit by a car and suffered a childhood concussion, and finally the universe rebalanced and it all became clear. And though I now have one less target in the world (because you just can’t make fun of disabled people), it also means that I also have a vacancy in that department. Any takers?
I promised I wouldn't mention her name, but a certain mother of mine called me up last night all pensive and anxious, knowing full well that blog-conversation was off limits. So, I eventually coaxed out of her the nature of her difficulties: she felt that these profanities I use so liberally are borderline middle-lower class, and that's just not okay. So, I spent the greater part of an hour debating the merits of the f-bomb. It's a fun little debate I haven't had with myself in years, you should try it sometime. Anyhow, the cursing is out, because mother wants me to be a politician, and the Internet is forever.
And finally, "overheard in LA," the first in a series:
"He called me 'sunshine' instead of 'honey' today -- what do you think that means?"
"I think sucking your gut all day is probably a good ab workout"
posted by devdoot majumdar at 2:07 AM
1 Comments:
You could never be a politician, you're too honest.
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