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tête-à-tête
“Yeah. But you can’t listen to them. They’re a drug addict.”
“Who says you can’t listen to drug addicts? Some drug addicts are smart.”
“Like who?”
“Freud was a cocaine addict. Carl Sagan was a pot head. Hemingway was an alcoholic, along with pretty much every other writer. The Beatles did a lot of preaching about love under the influence of psychedelics.”
“Okay, okay, I get, Lori. But for every drug addict that is prolific and smart, there’s probably a thousand who are just fucking idiots.”
“Well, you’ll get no argument from me there. I just don’t think you should necessarily judge someone if they are an addict.”
“But you love judging people.”
“I wouldn’t say I love judging people. Judgement itself gets a bad reputation. Judging is literally a survival strategy. It’s situational analysis. Anyone who isn’t a fucking idiot should be judging situations AND people at all times. If you’re walking down the street and see someone with a knife, are you not going to use your judgment to stay away from them?”
“That’s different.”
“From what?”
“From, I don’t know, judging someone based on what TV shows or movies or books they like.”
“First of all… I favorably judge anyone who reads any books anymore. Second, my judgement on someone’s TV or film taste is more of a matter of whether we’d get along as friends and if I want to hang out with them because we have things in common or not. I don’t dislike someone for having shit taste.”
“I’m just saying… you’re pretty judgy.”
“Okay. If that’s such a bad trait, why are you friends with me? Or ask me for advice?”
“Cause you’re smart… and funny.”
“Being smart, funny and judgmental are all connected. To be an observer and an absurdist means looking at the world and commenting on it. You can’t be a writer and a comedian and not also be the judge and jury. But I am only the judge and jury for myself, and of myself. If you think I look at the world harshly, you should hear my inner dialogue. Have I mentioned how disgusted I am with myself that I gained five pounds?”
“You’re insane.”
“I’m a big fat whale, and no one will ever love me!”
“You’re pretty fucking stupid for a smart person.”
“Human intelligence is fascinating, isn’t it? Like, you and I were A students, we’re both well read and leaps and bounds smarter than more than half the people in the world. But compared to the smartest people, like astrophysicists or medical geniuses, we’re as retarded to them as the average bloke is retarded to us.”
“Yeah, but I think even those brainiacs usually are lacking elsewhere. I don’t think many proteges have a great emotional intelligence.”
“Most intelligent people are unhappy. Burdened by their intelligence. That’s why they turn to alcohol, marijiuana, opium, or whatever. Which brings me back to my original point… you can actually listen to the advice or wisdom of a drug addict.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. As usual. Is that what you want to hear?”
“I rarely want to hear anything but music, the sound of the ocean, a cold bottle of beer being cracked open and the sound of a match lighting a joint.”
“Are we drug addicts, Lori?”
“Probably. But the kind you can take advice from.”
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