Personal Space

I don’t always talk about my mental health issues (though they provide a constant context I feel it’s only fair you should be aware of), nor do I wish you to have the impression I’m some kind of OCD germophobe (met one of those in Group Therapy, whole 9 yards, tissue on doorknobs which is actually a good idea, multiple showers, constant cleaning), but I do have concerns about “personal space” which you’d probably never notice as I’ve mostly trained myself out of them.

It was part of developing my skills as a politician, some people desire a level of physical contact I’m not comfortable with and while I’m out of practice now there was a time when you could hardly see me cringe.

Not always. I remember one encounter where a female prospective constituent snuck up behind me and ruffled my hair.

“Gee, most guys dig that.”

“You, ah, caught me by surprise.”

Surprise had nothing to do with it.

Anyway I’ve never been the kind to do the elbow grab handshake, look deeply into your eyes, and say “ek hornbeck, damn glad to meet you.” In fact I think it’s kind of a waste, if you have that level of insincere stagecraft in you, to use it indiscriminately as a joke. The moment I observed that behavior in a potential rival for capo di tutti I knew they were not at all serious and I would crush them like a bug. Which I did.

I think that’s why I find Trump’s encounter with Macron both creepy and amusing. I get that Europeans are a lot less hung up about certain things than us Puritans but a straight handshake, back clap (always twice, no more), and air kiss on both cheeks should have been plenty.

Not Ezra Klein’s Lie Journal

This is my pillow fort Preet!

Greta Garbo is famous for the line “I want to be alone” and spent many years living in New York City, supposedly as a recluse but in fact as just a normal person which is a thing the City is very good for. As an actor it’s very comforting to have a place where you don’t have to be on stage.

Now, don’t misunderstand me. I do not hold your frivolity against you. As basic material, you may not be bad; but you are the unfortunate product of a doomed culture. I feel very sorry for you.