January 27, 2005


K and I have fallen under the spell of the Myers-Briggs Personality Indicator. She’s an ENFP; I’m an INTJ. According to the literature, our types are ideal romantic partners – it has something to do with how my dominant function compliments her dominant function. (That sounds kind of hot, no?)

I’ve learned some interesting things about INTJs. We’re the rarest of the sixteen types (less than 1% of the population), the most self-confident and independent, the least likely to believe in a higher power, and the least likely to deal with stress by watching TV. Collectively we have the highest GPA. We’re known as the “free-thinkers” or “masterminds.”

Sadly we’re also a bunch of assholes. Consider the following passages lifted from the literature (I’ve simply replaced every instance of INTJ with ASSHOLE):

Fellow workers of ASSHOLES often feel as if the ASSHOLE can see right through them, and often believe that the ASSHOLE finds them wanting. This tendency of people to feel transparent in the presence of the ASSHOLE often result in relationships which have psychological distance.

By nature, ASSHOLES are independent individualists. They see their visions so clearly that they are often surprised when others do not see things the same way. ASSHOLES are strong at critiquing and as a result tend to notice the negatives. To them, a job well done should be reward enough in itself.

ASSHOLES can be unsparing of both themselves and others. Anyone considered to be “slacking,” including superiors, will lose their respect – and will generally be made aware of this.

ASSHOLES apply (often ruthlessly) the criterion “Does it work?” to everything from their own research efforts to the prevailing social norms. This in turn produces an unusual independence of mind, freeing the ASSHOLE from the constraints of authority, convention, or sentiment for its own sake. … ASSHOLES many find it useful to learn to simulate some degree of surface conformism in order to mask their inherent unconventionality.

Other people may have a difficult time understanding an ASSHOLE. They may see them as aloof and reserved. Indeed, the ASSHOLE is not overly demonstrative of their affections, and is likely to not give as much praise or positive support as others may need or desire.

ASSHOLES live in a world of their own conception. They simply ignore rules, concepts, and directives that do not suit them.

In social situations, ASSHOLES may neglect to observe small rituals designed to put others at their ease. ASSHOLES tend to have little patience and less understanding of such things as small talk and flirtation (which most types consider half the fun of a relationship).

Most people do not understand ASSHOLES and try to keep away from them.

To be fair to my type, I tried to balance these passages with others that describe how collectively appealing we are. My idea was to replace all instances of INTJ with SUPER-SEXY BRAINIAC. It failed.

January 26, 2005


The document is eleven pages long and is called Customer Sensitivity Issues in Content. It shows what’s okay and not okay to include in the company’s publications. The company is a major publisher of children’s literature.

These things (among many others) are not okay anywhere ever:

  • casual, social drinking by adults
  • birth control / cloning / reproductive issues
  • ghosts, witches, warlocks
  • topics considered embarrassing such as menstruation, flatulence
  • “embarrassing” words such as breast, toilet, brassiere, jackass
  • people discussing sex or sexual feelings; human sexual acts
  • blatant disrespect of parents or authority figures
  • kids vomiting
  • suicide

I’m in a bar having a drink with a sexy ghost. We’re discussing reproductive issues. I ask if ghosts need to use birth control, and she says they don’t.

She has nice breasts.

I ask if ghosts still have periods. She says no and adds that ghosts can’t have sex with living people because ghosts’ bodies are immaterial. If a human tried to fuck her, he’d fall through.

I ask about phone sex, and she laughs. She has a great laugh.

Just then the president walks by. He’s holding a vomiting child and looks like he’s about to shoot himself. His t-shirt says, JACKASS.

“Only by speaker phone,” says the ghost.


“Ghosts can only have phone sex by speaker phone. It’s the immaterial problem.”

January 5, 2005


Early in the night I heard a man cry out. I think he was shot. That’s what it sounded like. I mean his cries. I tried to remember if I had heard the shot, and it seemed that I had.

The sound he was making wasn’t continuous. He would breathe and cry out, breathe and cry out.

Later I believed I was dying. I don’t know if I dreamt this or if I was awake. If I dreamt it, I woke immediately. My thought was: This is the last moment of my life.

I didn’t know what I was dying of. I thought there had been a flash. I was dying of whatever made the flash.