(no subject)
Think about this: If your life has been even remotely interesting, there's probably at least one person out there who hates your guts, probably because of something which you don't even remember doing.
Chuck Klosterman has a new book in which he argues that everyone needs both an archenemy and a nemesis, since these two figures drive everything you do. You want to destroy your archenemy, and you want to be better than your nemesis. Your nemesis is probably someone you keep close to yourself and are at least outwardly friendly with, while your archenemy is someone you would shiv you in the ribs (either metaphorically or literally) if he got within reach. The Joker is Batman's archenemy, but Superman is his nemesis.
There's probably a small nemesis element to any friendship with a successful person (hopefully no more than a little bit). The archenemy part interests me more. Surprisingly, I can think of at least one person who apparently considered me an archenemy, and that's not even counting temporarily-pissed-off ex-girlfriends and that sort of thing.
I was one of the editors for the high school literary magazine. We had several columnists, including one socially awkward guy who initially planned to write about role-playing games. However, the second column which he submitted got a bit off-topic: towards the end, he started ranting about how despicable the popular kids were for not inviting him to parties, or something like that. It wasn't well written or interesting, and I figured he would just make his social situation worse by saying these things in print, so I told him I didn't think it was a good idea to publish it. He insisted. This being a literary magazine, I didn't feel I had any business censoring his inner crybaby, so we went ahead and printed it.
During grad school, I ran into this person and his roommate. I already knew the roommate but didn't recognize Role-Playing Guy; indeed, I'd completely forgotten about his existence. RPG did not introduce himself to me or speak to me in any way, but as soon as I left, he told the roommate what an arrogant jerk I was for questioning the validity and artistic merit of that column he submitted in high school. This was several years after the fact, mind you, yet it was still so fresh in his mind that it all came back to the surface as soon as he saw me.
Go back through the little details of your life, and ask yourself: whose archenemy am I?
Chuck Klosterman has a new book in which he argues that everyone needs both an archenemy and a nemesis, since these two figures drive everything you do. You want to destroy your archenemy, and you want to be better than your nemesis. Your nemesis is probably someone you keep close to yourself and are at least outwardly friendly with, while your archenemy is someone you would shiv you in the ribs (either metaphorically or literally) if he got within reach. The Joker is Batman's archenemy, but Superman is his nemesis.
There's probably a small nemesis element to any friendship with a successful person (hopefully no more than a little bit). The archenemy part interests me more. Surprisingly, I can think of at least one person who apparently considered me an archenemy, and that's not even counting temporarily-pissed-off ex-girlfriends and that sort of thing.
I was one of the editors for the high school literary magazine. We had several columnists, including one socially awkward guy who initially planned to write about role-playing games. However, the second column which he submitted got a bit off-topic: towards the end, he started ranting about how despicable the popular kids were for not inviting him to parties, or something like that. It wasn't well written or interesting, and I figured he would just make his social situation worse by saying these things in print, so I told him I didn't think it was a good idea to publish it. He insisted. This being a literary magazine, I didn't feel I had any business censoring his inner crybaby, so we went ahead and printed it.
During grad school, I ran into this person and his roommate. I already knew the roommate but didn't recognize Role-Playing Guy; indeed, I'd completely forgotten about his existence. RPG did not introduce himself to me or speak to me in any way, but as soon as I left, he told the roommate what an arrogant jerk I was for questioning the validity and artistic merit of that column he submitted in high school. This was several years after the fact, mind you, yet it was still so fresh in his mind that it all came back to the surface as soon as he saw me.
Go back through the little details of your life, and ask yourself: whose archenemy am I?