I love roundhouse generalizations. Especially unexpectedly verisimilitudinous roundhouse generalizations--The repeated insistence of Turks that Russians are just colder versions of themselves surprises me not a little. Surprises and pleases. I like this about Turks.
I also like the Turkish way--which is hysterical, and not well thought-out, but kind--with cats and other small animals. It's also the same way, basically, that Greeks and mid-peninsula Italians have with cats. It somehow doesn't lead to the establishment of local chapters of the SPCA (where pets are euthanized), but it is kind. And nurturing. While it lasts.
I burn hot. I tend to exhaust people in conversation, like Margaret Fuller did Carlyle. Which leaves me (but apparently not Margaret) always wishing I'd shut up sooner. I have quite a few friends and not many enemies, but I'm very proud of the few I do have. There is consensus among my friends about me, which is how I know to write about myself. What my enemies think of me I have no idea. That, of course, could be dangerous.
The list of interests and favorites is absurdly partial and half-assed, particularly as to music and books. It's the stupid format of the blog itself, as given, that, of course, I color outside the lines and burst the seams of.
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