Why shouldn’t I work for the N.S.A.? That’s a tough one, but I’ll take a shot.
Say I’m working at the N.S.A. and somebody puts a code on my desk, something no one else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I’m real happy with myself, cause I did my job well.
But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East, and once they have that location they bomb the village where the rebels are hiding. Fifteen hundred people that I never met, never had no problem with, get killed.
Now, the politicians are sayin’, “Oh, send in the Marines to secure the area” cause they don’t give a shit. It won’t be their kid over there gettin’ shot. Just like it wasn’t them when their number got called, cause they were off pullin’ a tour in the National Guard. It’ll be some kid from Southie over there takin’ shrapnel in the ass.
He comes back to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, cause he’ll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks.
Meanwhile, he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place was so that we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And, of course, the oil companies used the little skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit for them, but it ain’t helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon.
They’re takin’ their sweet time bringin’ the oil back, of course, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and fuckin’ play slalom with the icebergs. It ain’t too long ‘til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic.
So now my buddy’s out of work. He can’t afford to drive, so he’s walkin’ to the fuckin’ job interviews, which sucks because the shrapnel in his ass is givin’ him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he’s starvin’, cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat, the only blue plate special they’re servin’ is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State.
So what did I think? I’m holdin’ out for somethin’ better. I figure fuck it, while I’m at it why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president.
And proof that good, YouTube comments still exist:
An incredibly accurate example of deductive reasoning: a common trait in highly intelligent people. Often times deductive reasoning is learned through education, although there are rare examples (such as the one exemplified in this movie) of people who achieve it naturally. Usually these people spend a lot of time observing and accruing excessively large amounts of information so as to break them down to all probable outcomes. Their brains become so adept at doing this from an early age that it becomes second nature… Their only major flaw is that they tend to be more pessimistic than optimistic, and are of the strong belief that “what can go wrong, will go wrong.”