The young Miss Burbage points me to this article in the Crimson on the virtues of hatred, with the comment “I thought as much”. I have observed that some of the most amusing people I know are “haters”. One of the great drawbacks of our politically-correct age is that the most drole and entertaining stories I hear cannot be shared on this webpage for the participants’ fear of prospective employers googling their names and coming up with surly tales of various hijinks.
It’s all in good fun, of course, but some people will just never get it. I’m particularly reminded of an Allison Burbage story which took place at a party in the town of Pelham, which certianly cannot be retold here and now. Nonetheless, just remembering Burbage’s delivery of this story sends me into barrels of laughter.
Someday, I hope to unite all the haters in my life (Miss Burbage, Mr. Ishmael, Mr. Burke, as well as all the closet haters — you know who you are) in one giant transatlantic dinner party where we can verbally savage and profane all the sacred cows of our terrible modern world. It would be a night to remember. Vive le vitriol!