08 September 2008

Self Referential

Friends would ask about my girls and I would bleat sadly about the loss of their heirlooms.

Interestingly, their fiercest reaction was against their original removal behind my back but that they were then unquestioningly accepted by my brother without even suggesting that I might be called in to explain why I'd reached such a low as to renounce my girls' memory and have someone else do my dirty business of ditching them.

"So ... like I don't know the dude but, hey, he *is* your brother. Are you saying he just *sat* there, knowing he lives in this asshole laughable thievery and *still* agreed that,

'Yeh mum, duhh, yer right. Like Italy is soo much safer for Chris's stuff'.

Is he lacking somewhat in the self-awareness department?' "

Splutter. In what department? Self-awareness schelf-awareness.

I had no reply until I read the Hesperus edition of Edith Wharton's The Touchstone and the very clever Salley Vickers' foreword, para two line three, where she talks about "the diabolical traps we set ourselves through self-referential obtuseness." (My itals)

My dears, the scales fell from my eyes. What a brilliant observation.

Doesn't that explain and define it all?

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