On chasing perfection

This article is kind of pornographic good for the type A, OCD prone  among us. The titillating sensation of reaching “perfection” is truly exhilarating; it’s also universal beyond making an omelette.

Actually reading this reminded me of the first “essay” I had to write, in 3rd grade, in Chinese, in which I used a “chengyu” (set phrases from ancient Chinese) for the first time. Incidentally, it was an essay about making eggs. At the time, I didn’t even know it was a chengyu – until the sentence was read out loud in class (obviously setting off the worst narcissistic vain streak known to mankind, I think the self-deprecation is a conscious effort to offset it). It was perfect.

Shit, somebody call Freud, I think I just found the cause of my neurotic obsession with finding the mot just. Another reason why languages get me off sometimes; and the rare moments when I can almost understand the logic behind Ezra Pound’s cantos.


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