The Pessimist Is Always Right Eventually: A Defense I Should Not Have To Make
I have been asked — again — to justify my methods. I will do this once, briefly, and with visible contempt. Pessimism is not a disposition. It is a statistical framework. Every bad thing I have ever predicted has occurred. If it has not occurred yet, that is called a pending prediction, and I have a folder. The folder is thick. Do not test me on the folder.
The so-called workers at factjuice.com — I am told Tangelo recently published something called a "hopeful outlook" — are welcome to their optimism right up until the moment it fails them, which I have already scheduled for a date I am not legally required to disclose. My colleague Quince asked me to be kinder in this column. I considered it. I have placed her request in the folder.
And now, the signs. Aries: You will finish something. It will not be enough. Taurus: A door opens. It is the wrong door. Gemini: Both of you are having a bad week. Cancer: The thing you are protecting is already gone. Leo: Noticed. Unfavorably. Virgo: Your system fails on a day you specifically prepared for. Libra: You decide. It is the other one. Scorpio: You were right. It made no difference. Sagittarius: You arrive. The event concluded. Capricorn: Progress, followed by a clarifying setback. Aquarius: Your idea is adopted without credit and implemented incorrectly. Pisces: The feeling you cannot name intensifies.
These predictions carry a lifetime accuracy guarantee. If you feel one has not yet come true, you are simply in the interval. I find the interval very peaceful. I live there. It is where I write.