I'm a misunderstood cartoonist.

The people who misunderstand me the most are the ones who write to tell me they enthusiatically agree with my opinions.Those people scare me. Sometimes they develop irrational attractions to me, based on the fact that our opinions are so similar. They often inquire about the possibilities of mating with me, or-if they are male-drugging me and keeping me in a basement in a big glass container. It's all very flattering.

Other people write to tell me they plan to hunt me down and beat me senseless with ceramic statues because my opinions are at odds with their own well-constructed views of the universe. The people who worship unicorns come to mind. They're a vindictive group.

Still other people call me a hypocrite because their incomplete information about my actions is inconsistent with their misinterpretation of my opinions. I deal with this the only way I know how to-by singing their names to anti-unicorn literature.

The problem with other people's opinions about my opinions is that no one actually knows my opinions. all anyone knows about me is the dialoque I put in the mouths of rotund engineers, talking rats, megalomaniac dogs, and pointy-haired bosses. I might be dumb, but I'm not dumb enough to express my true opinion about anything important. The one thing I've learned about freedom of expression is that you really ought to keep that sort of thing to yourself.

That said, I do feel an irrational need to make one futile attempt to clear up the biggest misconception about my opinions:I'm not anti-management. I'm anti-idiot. The two groups intersect so often that I use the terms interchangeably, even though I know I souldn't. Let me set the record straight: If you think you're a smart manager, you have my word that I'm only making fun of other people.

Sincerly,
Scott Adams