Nobody likes a know-it-all, and that’s probably why I’m so unpopular. People find it irritating that I’m always right. As for me, being right is exhausting. I have to work things out in my head rigorously.
Before I say a word, I put my preliminary response in the form of a syllogism. Then I check the logical structure for fallacies. And then I review the premises. Are they credible? Do I have reason to believe they are true?
If everything checks out, I speak. Otherwise I silently rework my response until something passable comes up. And then I speak.
By then, the other party has usually gone away.
The secret to being right isn’t secret. We know about logic, about experiments, about the scientific method. I use known and proven tools. They’re available to anyone who wants to make the effort.
But you know, what’s the bloody point? I live in a world of people, not robots. Or at least not many robots. There are no rewards for being right. And yet, I can’t help myself. It’s become more than a habit. It’s an instinct. I’ve tried quitting but I just can’t do it.
I’m leaving the world of people. I can’t be around them anymore. They won’t miss me either. I plan to commune with Nature. It obeys known laws. It makes sense.
Yes, that’s where I belong. Away from people. People can make their damn mistakes. Whatever makes the bastards happy.