Polaroids Must be Crazy

With four friends and colleagues, at the office or at beer o’clock… Through their sparse humdrum trivial days, their unfounded beliefs and grounded opinions, their empathy and misunderstandings, their muddled crossed monologues, their pretentious chit-chat about anything and everything. Their bond is their candidness and intellectual honesty, their allergy to insipidity and falsity, their tolerance for some of human stupidity, their contempt for some of human idiocy, but not all. It just happened that they agree about most of how they mark out right and wrong. They tolerate their disagreements openly. They relate, because their outrage demarcations overlap more or less, but in an orthogonal way to others’ righteous indignation delimitation. They weren’t paying attention to wording, English is not their mother tongue. They were not expecting to be heard anyway. They don’t really care, because they know that their opinions have absolutely no importance.