Anthony Esolen, in a piece in Magnificat this month about the marriage of faith and Reason that is the Church, has a piquant turn of phrase to describe one of the more grating of today's attention-harlot atheists -- the "zoologist and village crank."
I fear finding myself becoming the village crank.
I can hear and see it happening to a beloved friend who seems obsessed with the annoyance of telemarketing, all out of proportion -- not just to the degree of annoyance one should feel for such trivia, but to the frequency with which such annoyances present themselves, which is NOT AT ALL frequent.
A bit of debonnairite, is called for, no? a noble indifference to trifling bumps encountered as one trots along the road of life?
But everyone has 'em, we all jest at others' scars if we felt not that particular wound, right?
And what I allow myself to become agitated over is just as insignificant while just as significant to me.
Really enjoyed the casting, the performances, the dialogue, the direction, the plotting of Turks & Caicos last night, (seriously, David Hare, "bedefinitely"? whether that was an invented or an observed eccentricity, simple marvelous, and isn't Christopher Walken the perfect quirky actor into whose mouth to put the word!)
So why allow myself to be vexed by, to the point where I feel the need to mention it, his odd, demeaning misuse of the story of St Augustine and the child by the seashore?
It is his failure to comprehend the mystery of the Trinity, the Blessed Trinty, the very nature of God, for pete's sake, that has the saint baffled almost to distraction!
Your character, (Walken, again,) is merely wondering how various political and financial alliances among a set of rotten people will shake out.
I know, I know how silly I'm being.
Some science fiction story I read when I was a kid, the only thing about it which stuck with me was that a Utopian society, IIRC, had only 2 laws - 1) don't annoy other people, and 2) don't allow yourself to be too easily annoyed.
And THAT'S how cranks are born.