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Like Shooting Fish In A Barrel
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He started many an argument with many a person, but the other was always to blame. The blue pages were littered with the evidence, yet he could not see it. Perhaps he simply refused to look, or perhaps he did not know how to read. It was a breathtaking sight, to see the same schtick used with person after person, to see the fault always placed outside himself. Some felt pity for him; others merely found it amusing.
It was always the fault of the other. Instead of relying on point-by-point rebuttals, he instead prefered to attribute all disagreement to the other person's ego. After all, he himself was free from all error, right? Right? Perhaps if he kept telling himself that, it would be true. Why bother addressing the points made in the other person's argument when it is so much easier, so much more relaxing, to simply pin it all on the ego of another?
And if he lost yet *again*, he could always pretend as though that had been his plan all along. Granted, everyone saw through this charade, but he seemed to not realize his transparency, and refused to give the other minds any credit whatsoever. But it was of no consequence, for his inability to grasp the concept of rebuttal was sufficient to counteract the general hostility of his tone, which he so often found echoed in others, and generally failed to see originated in himself and was but mirrored by his usually self-selected adversaries.
Fortunately, he was an excellent poet and decent song-writer. This made it difficult to dislike the man, even if his petulant character aroused the indignation of more persons than not.
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