When my family lived in a small neighborhood outside Langley, Virginia, I didn’t think it was odd that we never saw a police patrol car, or that our ice cream man wore a pistol under his white coat. [This is a long one. If you click this, settle in.]
Just what the title says. I’d give a more detailed summary, but I have a train to catch.
Do we choose what our interests are, or are our interests the product of our experiences? Or are we just hard-wired with a preprogrammed attraction to certain topics? I have no idea. And that is not the topic of this post. This post is about my problem. And my problem, as I have recently come to realize, is largely due to my interests. Read this one. It’s weird, and it’s personal.
I was just poking around YouTube looking for some interesting documentaries. I found a video clip that was about two and a half minutes long claiming that Edward Snowden, everyone’s favorite NSA whistleblower, had “revealed evidence of UFO realty” (I think the computer-generated voice was meant to say “reality”… or maybe you can buy some property in the Earth’s mantle from some friendly bug-eyed folk).
