My dinner with Austin (remix)

I had the weirdest night last night, which if you have read any of this blog, is par for the course.

Went out with my Napoleonic friend and over dinner we started one of those discussions you really shouldn't have once you're out of college.

He works for a not for profit, but said what motivates him his selfishness (echoing old school Hobbes and that wretched Ayn Rand), which I found refreshingly honest for a do-gooder on one hand, but when combined with what else he had to say, a little frightening.

That is, he also copped to being a proponent of what I like to call one of those T-shirt slogans, his being, "lead, follow or get out of the way," him being the leader of course. And he thinks people admire him for being a leader as such -- and he was sort of proud of having a file cabinet full of forms on people he's fired.

I told him that it makes him come off like an officious asshole sometimes, but, hey he doesn't care what people think about him.

He also said he took a promotion at work to develop his "soft skills," those being learning how to have empathy for people, as he readily admits his has little or know empathy. Once I got home I remembered the word for that: sociopath.

He also doesn't like to have pictures taken of events in his life, because he doesn't dwell in the past. To which I asked don't you want to remember people who may have died. That, he said, is in his head, and who needs sad memories, his goal is to be happy.

Irish me said happiness is overrated, perhaps even an illusion, and it's the pursuit of happiness, not happiness (they journey, not the end).

I am not sure I believe half of what he said, as he seemed to double back on himself and finally did admit the paradox of his job, that being as a fundraiser perception is of the utmost, yet he claims not to care, and thus he very well might be a fraud.

Of course, reporters and writers know a bit about the art of seduction for its own sake. But to be a good writer empathy in a certain sense is a necessary commodity, even if it's only on the page.

But writers (or me at least) don't want to lead or follow or be led or followed, really. Which is to say, my T-shirt slogan is "think for yourself." Another is "beware the true believers," and "beware anyone who thinks his way is the only right way, and that's that."

After a meal, this was like sherbet for the brain, a palette cleanser, but with a bitter aftertaste. I'm fascinated by my "friend" but not even sure if "friend" is the right word at this point. Would plaything be the right word for someone like that?

Or was I the subject of a performance art piece performed for and by an audience of one?


Then after that, we went bar hopping, mainly people watching. He had his reasons, I had mine.

My dinner with Austin

I had the weirdest night last night, which if you have read any of this blog, is par for the course.

Went out with my Napoleonic friend and over dinner we started one of those discussions you really shouldn't have once you're out of college.

He works for a not for profit, but said what motivates him his selfishness (echoing old school Hobbes and that wretched Ayn Rand), which I found refreshingly honest for a do-gooder on one hand, but when combined with what else he had to say, a little frightening.

That is, he also copped to being a proponent of what I like to call one of those T-shirt slogans, his being, "lead, follow or get out of the way," him being the leader of course. And he thinks people admire him for being a leader as such -- and he was sort of proud of having a file cabinet full of forms on people he's fired.

I told him that it makes him come off like an officious asshole sometimes, but, hey he doesn't care what people think about him.

He also said he took a promotion at work to develop his "soft skills," those being learning how to have empathy for people, as he readily admits his has little or know empathy. Once I got home I remembered the word for that: sociopath.

He also doesn't like to have pictures taken of events in his life, because he doesn't dwell in the past. To which I asked don't you want to remember people who may have died. That, he said, is in his head, and who needs sad memories, his goal is to be happy.

Irish me said happiness is overrated, perhaps even an illusion, and it's the pursuit of happiness, not happiness (they journey, not the end).

I am not sure I believe half of what he said, as he seemed to double back on himself and finally did admit the paradox of his job, that being as a fundraiser perception is of the utmost, yet he claims not to care, and thus he very well might be a fraud.

Of course, reporters and writers know a bit about the art of seduction for its own sake. But to be a good writer empathy in a certain sense is a necessary commodity, even if it's only on the page.

But writers (or me at least) don't want to lead or follow or be led or followed, really. Which is to say, my T-shirt slogan is "think for yourself." Another is "beware the true believers," and "beware anyone who thinks his way is the only right way, and that's that."

After a meal, this was like sherbet for the brain, a palette cleanser, but with a bitter aftertaste. I'm fascinated by my "friend" but not even sure if "friend" is the right word at this point. Would plaything be the right word for someone like that?

Or was I the subject of a performance art piece performed for and by an audience of one?


Then after that, we went bar hopping, mainly people watching. He had his reasons, I had mine.