“The greater part of what my [colleagues]
call good I believe in my soul to be bad, and
if I repent of anything, it is very likely to be
my good behavior. What demon possessed
me that I behaved so well?”
(Thoreau, slightly modified to fit my screed.)
“Who does he think he is!” my students say.
Who do I think I AM? I ask myself, sharing
Overstatement, I could say—suggesting a slight
disclaimer for both of us: me and Thoreau.
For the sake of argument, provocation maybe:
but props to Henry. I wouldn’t say such a thing
in public. Who do I think I am?
My good wife can’t stand to hear me criticize
others, news on tv, commentators, commercials,
bromide and platitude distributors. “You don’t
have a leg to stand on, Sam.”
“’All Cretans are liars,’ says Epiminedes, the liar.”
“I hate you all,” sometimes I exclaim to my students
after a good class. They think it’s funny.