Insane In The Brain

A thought I’ve been having lately that is probably obvious but feels important is that sometimes you like people who turn out to be insane.

What I mean by insane is likely a very incorrect usage, i.e. that their opinions on religion or politics are horribly wrong.

You know the moment — there’s that new acquaintance from work or church who you friended online and it was all going well until that one post that was like WHOAH, so I guess they’re insane. Huh. Didn’t expect that.

I think what I do after discovering the insanity is important. Whether from now on each time I encounter them I’m like, “Oh hey John (YOU’RE INSANE) how did your Tough Mudder go?” And then walk away mentally mumbling about people like John. Or if I’m like, “Blah blah how was the Tough Mudder, oh and remind me where are you from? Huh, what was it like growing up there?”

It sounds obvious, but I guess I’ve realized how bad I am at doing it, and how much easier it is to simply write John off as being nuts. It sounds obvious but I think it’s important, like I think maybe the fate of the world depends on it.

Maybe it’s simpler than we thought, and the fate of the world really just depends on being friends with people who are insane?