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If You Ask Me... Never Argue with an Idiot

Friday, 24 May 2024 09:00

By Flo Whitaker

This month, Flo Whitaker recalls some words of advice from her father: “Don’t pick an argument with an idiot – you’ll never win. They’re a highly-experienced expert because they’ve been an idiot their entire life”

“I need the last three digits of your tracking number” said the customer assistant, as I queued to collect a parcel. I checked the text message on my phone; “Seven, zero, zero”. Her brow furrowed as she scrolled down her computer screen, “Can you repeat that?” “Sure, it’s seven, zero, zero”. “Ah, found you!” she replied. “Those ‘o’s always confuse me - they’re ridiculous! Why do we bother with them?” “Well, they’re quite important”, I mused. “For instance, your computer and my phone operate using binary code, so, without zeros …” I stopped, realising her professional smile was about to be replaced by a dissertation on how she’d been up since 6am, had aching feet, earns the minimum wage and frankly didn’t care about my opinion on anything. Fair enough; she was efficient and polite, despite seemingly doing the jobs of several people - and I bet she knows plenty of stuff that I don’t.

Most of us are ordinary folk who don’t claim to be super-qualified in any particular way. That’s perfect, because the world needs the combined skills of everyone. Danger comes from self-absorbed, three-brain-celled idiots, who drag themselves up the greasy pole of politics to acquire terrifying levels of power. For example, consider Marjorie Taylor-Greene; member of the US House of Representatives, (and witless, talentless, tinfoil-hat-wearing lunatic,) who declared last month’s solar eclipse was a cosmic, direct-message from God. Being God must be an extremely depressing, stressful job. Having to deal with Marjorie’s attention-seeking nonsense can only add more paperwork to the celestial in-tray.

I recently posted a letter first class to Exeter. It took a fortnight to arrive. Perhaps I owe Marjorie an apology? After all, if God wants to send a warning about an imminent apocalypse, he’s going to need a more reliable service than Royal Mail – and he could never afford the stamps.

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