I adore my Dad, no question about it. He's always been the stable, reasonable, rational force in my upbringing, even when he wasn't there half the time. It's thanks to him I had the foundations to be able to think skeptically as a child, in an environment where hard questions were dismissed or silenced.
So sometimes, when it's late at night, there's nothing but pessimism on the news and he's downed a few, I get a bit shocked by what he admits. Like his belief that the world will end at 2012. That the police should all be given guns and orders to open fire. That we should arm ourselves ready for society's collapse. That he wishes he had sturdier legs to run on when the apocalypse happens.
There's something surreal in trying to associate those admissions with the man who taught me to always keep an open yet skeptical mind.