How Not To Be Weird
Placing an order in a café recently, the server said, “You don’t eat meat? That’s weird.” I responded, with a smile of course, “Yeah, it’s way less weird to catch a beautiful creature, look into its frightened eyes, cut its throat as it struggles to get free, dismember its body, slice it in pieces, fry it up in a pan and eat it with laughter around a table with your friends as you look into one another’s eyes and give no thought at all to the whole brutal affair.”
Too much said, I know, but sometimes the words just fall out of my mouth before I can stop them.
Once a man came to my house to make a repair. He commented: “It’s weird to come into a house that doesn’t have a TV on in the background that I have to talk over. It seems oddly quiet in here.” I thought to myself, “Huh. Are we at a place where it’s just ‘normal’ to live with a constant backdrop of TV murder, lust, profanity and deceit, and it’s weird …
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