Conversation with me and Victor:
me: You know, I fuck shit up a lot, but I think I’m getting better at it.
Victor: As in, more proficient at breaking things?
me: That too, but really I think I’m just getting better at knowing my abilities. Like, I don’t know how long it takes to cook a turkey, but I know exactly how long it takes me to set fire to the kitchen.
Victor: Huh. Wouldn’t that mean you were better at knowing your inabilities?
me: Depends on what you want done, really. I’ve never actually cooked a turkey and yet we’re still alive. But I know exactly how to get out of work, or how to avoid talking to real people, or how to sabotage any effort to organize. It’s almost a science.
Victor: It’s not a good science.
me: Most science isn’t. It’s all baby-killing cyborgs, and gas-that-turns-people-into-zombies, and infected plague-monkeys.
Victor: That’s not…really what science is about.
me: Well, it would be if I were involved. I’d be giving monkeys accidental contagious-zombie-rabies without even trying. And I probably wouldn’t even know it. Which would come in handy later when I had to testify in court.
Victor: I’m not sure where you’re going with this. Except in proving that you should never work in science.
me: I guess I’m just trying to say…play to your strength.
Victor: Yeah. Maybe lead with that next time.
me: And infect as few monkeys as possible while doing it.
Victor: Well, as long as you have goals.