There, I’ll say it – black cats fancy themselves as superior to other cats. This is manifested in their silent aloofy aloofness. Next time you see a black cat, make friends with her or him, and who knows, you may move her or him on from ‘aloof’ to ‘benign’ or even ‘cuddlesomely noirish.’ Give him or her, or her or him a pat and a hearty invitation to your next tuna nosh-a-rama and bucket list share-a-thon. Invite me, too.
We all find perspective in our own dubious ways, usually involving confirmation and cognitive bias. Who knows, maybe those two things are one and the same – I shall search for research that confirms my cognitions on this conundrum. Meanwhile, bias away, chaps, or bike away, and make it quick. That arch looks temporary to me.
It is almost a certainty that former hired assassins have limited knowledge of appropriate titles. On the other hand, I, for one, am not going to tell Maxwell Magillicuddy that he should, indeed, second-guess ‘Kebab Your Lamb and Other Stabby Recipes’ now that he’s turned his attention to, let us say, other victims. If he could stomach a dose of vegetarianism, ‘Coleslaw Your Carrot and Other Grating Recipes’ sounds so much less threatening, don’t you agree (unless you’re a carrot, or the friend or relative of a carrot – apologies to all long, orange vegies)?
As a violent pacifist, I sympathise with Linda, and all of us, really, we, the many pawns of the universe, all of us made from atoms billions of years old already. You’d think they would have acquired enough wisdom by now to have nothing to do with war and mayhem. Hmmph – evolution, so protonically, neutronically, electronically slow.
While 9 out of 10 cats prefer to stay out of the way when centaurs are stomping around (innocent tails and all that), the other 14 have no issues with them at all. In fact, felines and centaurs tend to group together to gossip about the latest social media mythological trends over lattes and ceviche at every opportunity. Prove me wrong, go on.