Sherry, Niles?
Sunday, February 22nd, 2004 11:55 pmIt seems that my life is in danger of taking a turn to the pompous.
Having decided to nip down the Manor Arms for the odd pint or two around 9.30 this evening I found myself in conversation towards closing time with Alec sans LJ and
romney. Alec is a Scotsman with some interesting political views. That is to say that he is, like far too many people of my acquaintance (though thankfully, probably not you, dear reader), somewhat left-wing with fascist overtones.
The fact that in general his views are reasonably socialist doesn't bother me; though I don't necessarily share them. The bit that baffles (and worries) me is the overlay of really quite extreme values, which co-exist in relative harmony inside his head.
It is not, however, this example of cognitive dissonance that forms the basis of this piece. The conversation was merely a catalyst for a sudden and rather odd revelation.
During the converstion, which at this point had turned into a diatribe on creeping nazification, I pulled up short in the realisation that whilst making a point I actually used the phrase "I submit that this shows..."
Now there is a form of language that does not sit easily in the bars of south London pubs on a Sunday evening and this is one of them. To compound the horror, the next words out of my mouth were, "Oh dear God, I'm turning into...".
On the way home,
romney and I were mulling this over - the conversation and my realisation both. It was when I pointed out, with the words, "But he was talking palpable nonsense" that I proved finally that am indeed becoming Frasier Crane.
Having decided to nip down the Manor Arms for the odd pint or two around 9.30 this evening I found myself in conversation towards closing time with Alec sans LJ and
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The fact that in general his views are reasonably socialist doesn't bother me; though I don't necessarily share them. The bit that baffles (and worries) me is the overlay of really quite extreme values, which co-exist in relative harmony inside his head.
It is not, however, this example of cognitive dissonance that forms the basis of this piece. The conversation was merely a catalyst for a sudden and rather odd revelation.
During the converstion, which at this point had turned into a diatribe on creeping nazification, I pulled up short in the realisation that whilst making a point I actually used the phrase "I submit that this shows..."
Now there is a form of language that does not sit easily in the bars of south London pubs on a Sunday evening and this is one of them. To compound the horror, the next words out of my mouth were, "Oh dear God, I'm turning into...".
On the way home,
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