Because I'm Trying to Be Good

And actually get some things done today, here's another little quiz answer in lieu of actual writing. The quiz is "What Obsolete Skill Are You?" from everyone's favorite pointless quiz source, Quizilla.


You are 'Latin'. Even among obsolete skills, the
tongue of the ancient Romans is a real
anachronism. With its profusion of different
cases and conjugations, Latin is more than a
language; it is a whole different way of
thinking about things.

You are very classy, meaning that you value the
classics. You value old things, good things
which have stood the test of time. You value
things which have been proven worthy and
valuable, even if no one else these days sees
them that way. Your life is touched by a
certain 'pietas', or piety; perhaps you are
even a Stoic. Nonetheless, you have a certain
fascination with the grotesque and the profane.
Also, the modern world rejects you like a bad
transplant. Your problem is that Latin has
been obsolete for a long time.


What obsolete skill are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

As seems to be so often the case lately, little grains of truth popping up in entirely inaccurate quizzes. There's a psychological term for finding the answers you're looking for, though I've forgotten it for the moment.

This works the same way at the "astrological fortunes" that James Randi, the famous psychic debunker and author of the book with Devin's favorite title, Flim-Flam! used to give. Randi would take a class of college students in some random subject and get from them information like their name, birthdate, place of birth, etc. He then took the information and had an astrologer do precise personality breakdowns based on readings done using that data given by each person.

A few weeks later he returned and handed out sealed papers upon which these psychological profiles were written. Gasps of shock could be heard throughout the class as they were unsealed. Soon people were imploring Randi, wide-eyed, to know how the astrologer could possibly have known so much about them and described their inner thoughts so perfectly. When Randi asked how many people thought the profiles were "extremely accurate" in really describing the recipient, a good 90% of the class raised their hand. Randi nodded, then asked the students to pass their profile to the person sitting next to them.

It turned out, of course, that every single profile was exactly the same. No one had received anything individualized at all. A lot of people got very angry, though it's hard for me to fathom why.

I imagine a lot of what I'm "finding" in all these breakdowns and quizzes are, in truth, really reflections of what I'm already looking for. Their value, I rationalize, is that they're mirrors in which I can get something of a view of myself I've not had before. It's the result, not the process. To steal from Douglas Adams in Mostly Harmless, it's like using graphite dust on a notepad to find out what was written on a previous sheet that's been removed (see, graphite adheres to the indentation made by the pen through the sheet above, leaving marks that can be read). The graphite's not important; it's the message that it reveals.

Everyone feeling all warm and touchy-feely now? Good. My job is done. I'll come back tomorrow and put a stop to all that.