I don’t know what this means. Could you please explain it to me?
I believe there is a point in chique’s home state which separates the drainage sheds of the Arctic, the Atlantic and the Gulf.
Ya’know, shes sounds just like a guy I used to know more than I’d have liked to. Eventually I gave up trying to reason with him and just agreed with everything he said, but I did it in the same slightly exaggerated way you would a crazy person. “SURE, it is” or “of COURSE, you’re right” Then they know you think they’re full of it, but are not worth arguing with (which seems to be the case here). It worked wonders for me. YMMV 
PC
Oops, I should add that since the Rockies Mountains run north-south, the waters flowing from their summits will run east or west downhill.
Gad, I still feel that impotent rage when I think of various fuckwits who reveled in their ignorance in the face of my logic and knowledge over the years. Ann sounds like a very unpleasant piece of work, but there is another factor working against you- her age. I have known many seniors who were paragons of wit, wisdom, and/or scholarship, but my #1 rule for a peaceful existance in life is to never, ever contradict or correct anyone over 70.
I don’t always follow this rule. In that case, some beloved old sweeties will reply, “Is that true, dear? How interesting.” Or, “Oh, I never knew that.” I *know[/] that they are humoring me.
Hey, LindyHopper, before you dump her into the (west-flowing) Clark Fork River, be sure to take her DOWN the Bitterroot River valley. As you well know, the Bitterroot flows from south to north, before emptying into the Clark Fork in your beautiful city.
True enough, Mona, but in most places, the Bitterroot isn’t deep enough to sink a body. And even if it were, I’d have to actually drive (horrors!) to do that. Whereas, not two blocks from my house, the Clark Fork is deep enough in spades, even given the extremely dry July we’ve been having. Besides, I’m not going to be doing the dumping, chique is. I’m just going to trap them and detain them until she gets here.
Does Ann only cleave to beliefs she already held, or does she go as far as making stuff up when she doesn’t know the answer to a question?
That’s what my mom does. If anyone’s familiar with the Red Green show, my mom could be a Possum Lodge member, because she completely lacks the ability to say, “I…DON’T…KNOW!”
Case in point. Now bear with me on this; it sounds silly, but it illustrates the lengths to which my mom will go in order to have the last word.
Some of you may remember the issue of Vanity Fair, some time in the early '90s, where Demi Moore posed for the cover, nude and hugely pregnant. At the time, Tina Brown was the editor of VF. A year later, I saw an editorial cartoon that portrayed the cover of the New Yorker. Their silhouetted top-hat-wearing guy was shown in profile, also hugely pregnant.
WTF? I thought. “Mom? What does this mean?”
“It’s a takeoff on that Vanity Fair cover.”
“But that was over a year ago.”
“Well, maybe this cartoonist just now found out about it.”
O-kay… Later, I found out that Tina Brown was assuming editorship of the New Yorker. :rolleyes:
There was another incident around that time. I was watching Time Bandits, and my mom walked in near the end. She mentioned that she liked David Rappoport’s acting (as did I…poor sod 
), having seen him in guest appearances on LA Law.
“And he had his own show,” I informed her. “It was called, ‘The Wizard’.”
“No, he wasn’t in that.”
“Yes, he was!”
A lot of back-and-forth about “It was on CBS”—“It couldn’t have been on CBS, it’s still in the theaters!” Finally she digs through newspapers and produces a glossy promo for Willow. “See?” she said triumphantly, pointing to Warwick Davis’ picture. “That’s not David Rappoport!”
“I did not say it was. I said The Wizard. It was a TV show where he was an inventor.”
“Ohhhhhh! See, all I heard was the “W” sound and I stopped listening!”
It’s highly frustrating to me, because I take the entertainment biz very seriously, while at the same time realizing that people outside my geek circle don’t find these things important enough to get into a knock-down-drag-out over. But she said it right there: she does not fucking listen. There wouldn’t be anything to argue about if she would accept the possibility that other people know things too.
And then there was the time she said, “How can Actress X have kids…she’s gay!” when in fact, Actress X had played a lesbian in one guest appearance on a sitcom, and was IRL married with two kids…but enough for now.
(R.I.P., David.)
Your mom; my sister; I wonder if I should email her this quote from you? The funny thing about my married-to-being-right sister is that she is usually wrong, and has misunderstood something she read or heard.
(Dontcha love having a “discussion” with people that you know are just waiting for you to shut up so they can prove how stupid you are and how infinitely informed they are? Oh well, I get information from everywhere because I listen to people. They do not.)
Pre-cisely!
To be fair, my mom does know a lot. But not everything! She’s like Peggy on King of the Hill: her ego will shatter if she admits she can’t do/doesn’t know something.
**
I knew a guy like that once. After about a minute, he would start bracing his hands on his knees, mouth already open, as if he were about to spring. Then when he spoke, you could tell he simply hadn’t heard the last thing you’d said.
I got an anecdote about him as well. I was telling him of an absolutely gorgeous photo I’d seen in a library magazine. I was going to have to search used book stores for a copy of the magazine, I said, because Xeroxing wouldn’t recreate the lush colors. I went on to describe the photo itself, then repeated, “I hope I can find a copy somewhere.”
“Or you could go back and Xerox it,” was his helpful suggestion.
:smack:
Guys come on, it’s not that difficult… look at a freakin’ globe. Of course all rivers run south, it is a basic action of liquids to fill the bottom of the container. That is why rivers run down. 
Well, I’d be telling her if she doesn’t like the way I fucking make lasagne, then she does not have to fucking eat it. I tell my mum that (well, more politely and with zero swearing) when she starts nosing around the kitchen whilst I cooking something (which doesn’t happen very often, but that’s not the point).
If they don’t like it, they can shove it.
I hate people who think they know everything. And will persist till they’re blue in the face that they’re right. You never, ever hear them apologise when they’re wrong, do you?
See, I do concede when I’m wrong. It greatly strengthens one’s credibility when one is right amid opposition.
One of the greatest sentences I ever learnt is this… “Well! I stand corrected!”
It’s amazing how placating that sentence is when used with magnanimity and graciousness.
You see, my goal in life isn’t to let everyone know how much I already know, but rather, to use every opportunity I can to actually IMPROVE my knowledge base. Which is why I visit THIS particular postboard (and no, I’m not trying to be ingratiating). I find that I can read threads on this website - especially in General Questions and simply learn sooooooooooooo much interesting stuff - and occasionally I can contribute too. But it’s the persuit of knowledge that I find so rewarding by coming here.
That being said, I’ve also learnt another very usefeul phrase that I use if I’m in a conversation with someone who is REALLY trying to outsmart me - namely, I begin with the following words “It’s my understanding that blah blah blah blah”. And what I’m doing when I use those words is that I’m providing a caveat with the preface that I MIGHT be wrong, but it’s not likely. I’ve found over the years that it’s a wonderfully efficient way of very quickly assessing whether you’re dealing with (a) a really knowledgeable person (b) a wannabe knowledgeable person or © a know-all dumb fuck!
It’s worth noting that on rare occasions I find myself in the presence of someone who is both extraordinarily gracious AND who also has an encyclopaedic knowledge base. In those instances I simply shutup and soak up every glorious moment.
If Ann is in her 70’s, it’s doubtful she’ll change what seems to be a strongly ingrained pattern. I’d recommend compassion and turning the other cheek. Or just euthenize her with an icepick.
My two year old is the same way
“Look at the horse!”
“Peanut, that’s a zebra.”
“No, Mama, its a horse.”
Then I drop it or she has a tantum. Cites don’t work on a two year old.
(And trace the path of the Mighty Miss through the Twin Cities sometimes - I don’t think there is a direction that river doesn’t flow around here - oh, it never goes East to West. But it goes West to East and South to North in addition to the predominate North to South)
Hi, I’m Winnowill.
:: “Hi, Winnowill!” ::
I…I am one of these people. :o But I know it, and I’m trying really hard not to be. Unfortunately, since everyone around me is ALSO one of these people, it is very, very hard.
There, there, Winnowill. Admitting you have a problem is the first step. Keep fighting the good fight! (I think it gets easier as you get older, too. I know I have about 10 times more patience now than I did in my teens or early twenties.)
Don’t know how I missed this before.
Actually, this point is not in Minnesota, but in Montana. It’s in the middle of Glacier National Park, and it’s called Triple Divide Peak. The drainages go to the Pacific Ocean, Hudson Bay, and the Gulf of Mexico. The lab I used to work for made a very nice topographical map of this area, which I had framed for my Dad for one of his recent birthdays (he loves Glacier).
Just fighting ignorance here. 
Ooh–chique! I just had a fabulous idea! Even better than the Clark Fork idea! Just bring Ann up to Glacier (tell her she can see mountain goats or something), and we’ll drug her and drag her to the top of Triple Divide Peak, then see which way she rolls down! Come on! It’s genius! You know you want to…