There is a crushing irony that controls my life. The less capable I am of a virtue, the more loudly I claim to possess that virtue. The more I lie, which is constantly, the more loudly I will claim the virtues of honesty and integrity. The more I cheat, the more I claim that I play fairly. The more I claim to know influential people, the more obscure I feel inside. As a matter of fact, my claiming a virtue is really a confession and barometer that I don’t possess it all. I know that I am mostly devoid of real virtues but I admire them so much. Because I have no true inner self I can just decide to have a virtue if I want it, sort of like picking up a bag of chips off the grocery store shelf. It always escapes me that real virtues happen as a function of a healthy person. I love mottoes like the Marine Corps “Semper Fi”. When I shamelessly invoke all the virtues of a respected group like that, it’s really my own way of clicking my heels together and repeating “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home”.
