The Mind’s Lies
So on Saturday I gave a talk at an off-the-record event. I can’t tell you who introduced me, but you’ve heard of him. He’s a close friend. He’s 12 feet tall with a bright red unibrow that makes his prosthetic glass cat-eyes seem all the more fearsome.
Okay, that last sentence is not true. But who’s to say I don’t remember it that way?
I bring this up for a few reasons. First, because the friend and colleague who introduced me had gone through some old G-Files and declared that I had gotten worrisomely serious of late. When he made this charge, I stormed the stage and smacked him on the back of the head with a half-frozen halibut, sending his cat-eyes flying across the room where they bounced off Yuval Levin’s forehead—which took Yuval by surprise because he’d been trying to inconspicuously peruse Canadian porn on his iPhone.