“I want a drum stick”
The old man hunched over the counter at the Kaintuck Chicken Massacre with his eyes glued on the roasted chicken. I couldn’t quite hear the young man behind the counter just yet, but I could see the old man pointing at the piece he wanted.
“I want a drum stick”
This time I could year the young teenager responding; “Do you want a 3-piece or a 5, piece. The meal comes with…”
“I want a drum stick!”
The old guy knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted a drum stick. A decade or two earlier, this old fella might have adapted his order to the menu, but now the details were clearly nonsense to him. He was pointing right at the piece he wanted. Why wasn’t that enough?The kid, for his part, wasn’t authorized to act on the desire for a single drum stick. The…
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Becoming is Superior to Being 
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