Chilled

I feel chilled.

Karl Pearson, my hero from university, turns out to have been a proponent of eugenics. It's 5:30 at office, half an hour from quitting time and I am not obsessing about leaving. That's how chilled I am.
Oh, bloggy, I used to be in love with this man. He's the kind of person who was everything. Smart, quick, a father of a discipline. He believed in the equality of men and women long before the real feminist movement and freedom of religious practice. How could he have been a eugenics freak? I am deeply disappointed and dispirited.

It must have given all these eugenics freaks a thrill to think of all the "poor stock" wiped out, while they were safely secure in their superior skins. Gah. I hate it when people say, you can see where they came from, even more because I can see the cold logic of their idea, but it's
a)chilling,
b)scientifically unsound
c)who appointed you as God anyway?

The cold cold evening is wrapping its tendrils around me and my comfy chair is now unnervingly not-at-my-temperature. Karl Pearson, a proponent of eugenics. I'm going to mourn now. Excuse me.