If I, Diogenese, the founder of the philosophical discipline of Cynicism become befuddled, that means that the situation I see is really and truly fucked up. Sorry about that, but no matter how crazy living people can be, no one before has ever tried to out-crazy me.
All I can do is try to find some humor in it…. /..-/–/—/.-.
A man with serious delusions was under treatment in a psychiatric hospital. The new psychiatric resident sat down with him in his semi-private room and tried to engage him in a conversation.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Johnson and I’ll be helping to care for you. And what is your name?” The patient sat up in bed, tucked his right hand into his shirt and announced with an impressive French accent.
“I, sir, am Napoleon Bonaparte, the greatest general in the history of the world!” The resident maintained his cool and replied.
“General, or should I say, Emperor Bonaparte, it is truly a pleasure to meet you. The entire world knows of your skills and your deeds. I would shake your hand, but I don’t know if that would be appropriate.”
“It would,” the patient replied, extending his hand, “given that you have been ushered into my private chambers. France’s values of liberté, égalité, fraternité are well known.”
“Yes, sir, they are,” the resident replied, “and wonderful values they are that have defined France so well.” The patient smiled and nodded his assent.
“With my apologies, sir, I must ask you an unusual question. Who told you that you were Napoleon Bonaparte?”
“God did!” the patient replied forcefully.
Donald Trump, the patient in the other bed sat bolt upright, crossed his arms across his chest and replied loudly, “I MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT!”