The fascination of watching a human being so confident in their abilities, when it's apparent that their abilities are actually severely limited. It's like an always repeating car crash. Can't take your eyes off it. You know you should. You know it's bad for you to spend any time gaping. But you are compelled, and beyond your better sense, you can't resist.
But I suppose a car crash isn't funny, so maybe more like a Big Shot, dressed in an improbable tux, always slipping on a banana peel, and falling into a puddle of mud. And rolling around in the mud like a baby pig. Yeah. And the Big Shot doesn't realize he's rolling around in the mud like a baby pig. He thinks he Mr. Big Shot. A winner in everything. Hah! Maybe more like that... and your eyes are riveted to the spectacle. Can't stop watching...
Yesterday The Short-Fingered Vulgarian insisted to the Washington Post Editorial Board that "My hands are normal hands!"
Hah! This makes you laugh out loud. Quite mirth-making... but then, the horror of it all comes streaming in. I do think the only way to deal with this phenomenon is to find your sense of humor. But this sense of humor should be wielded like an ego-busting weapon. We must puncture this balloon of absurdity.
Horrifying and hilarious...
