When she asks that question, with that particular tone, showing how infuriated she is, she really isn’t (I realise quickly) asking that particular question, I mean like literally or as if she expects to get an answer, so much as she is pointing to the questionable nature of it, the spectacle, the fact that it actually is a question. She is expressing her amazement that this is so apparently true, this observation, or this experience she has had. The experience that consists of repeated contact with one or another of the human race–if I remember at least that much. And when she says such things, I have to admit that at first I am dumbly tempted to blather out an answer, an explanation, to satisfy her. For it seems easy, I mean I have answered this question, in one form or another, to my own satisfaction many times before, I am sure! And I feel I could supply–though it would take some patience on her part (if she could listen)–an answer, to what obviously is a complaint, general and of such staggering proportion as it is (the way she has put it). Though I might be irritated that she is so naive, to not have recognised that this has been a question repeatedly torturing and befuddling us (that small elite group of us), for years. But, on the other hand, that is precisely what she is doing–expressing a current frustration, that this question still has to be asked. Well, now I remember vividly the form of this, but have, however, let slip away what the exact question was, or rather, exactly how she phrased it. But this will happen again, this pattern itself will repeat, and maybe even she will put the question the same way, and use that same infuriated tone, and then I will snag it. For now, I think the question she asked was something like: “Why is everyone so stupid?”

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