Tag Archives: people ask me

People Ask Me, or More Semi-Serious Randomonium

To the Uninitiated: this is the follow-up to a previously-written post, available here.

People ask me what my name is. If I tell them my real name, they inevitably spell it wrong. If I tell them my name is Ink, it’s easier for them to spell, but they look at me funny. I can’t win.

People ask me if I like Justin Bieber’s music. Do chickens have teeth? No? Okay, then.

People ask me if I’m “socialized,” being a homeschooler and all. Here are three viable responses: 1) Do you even know what that word means? or 2) You really have no idea what homeschooling is, do you? or 3) No ma’am, my parents keep me locked up under the house 364 days of the year. Today’s my off day.

People ask me if “ink slinger” means I run a tattoo parlor. I usually don’t respond to that one. I just stare in a way calculated to make them feel really, really dumb.

People ask me what sport I most enjoy playing. That’s an easy one: rugby. Rugby is like football… except that it makes football look like a game for wimps and snails.

People ask me if I support gun control. As a matter of fact, I do: two hands, finger off the trigger, muzzle downrange, sights on the target… and make sure you hit what you’re aiming at. Saavy?

People ask me if God has a sense of humor. I think He does. He made the rhinoceros, didn’t He? “It is one thing,” writes Chesterton, “to describe an interview with a gorgon or a griffin, a creature who does not exist. It is another thing to discover that the rhinoceros does exist and then take pleasure in the fact that he looks as if he didn’t.”

People ask me what it’s like to be the eldest of eight (soon to be nine) children. I tell them to hold that thought – they can read the answer in my autobiography.

People ask me what my hobbies are. I tell them I like to read and write, and they smile and nod. I tell them I also like to throw knives and shoot guns… and they call Social Services. Or they would, except I don’t miss.

People ask me why I blog. There are a number of answers to that question, but I like Douglas Wilson’s the best: “I blog to make the voices in my head go away.”