This is actually C’s story, but he doesn’t blog so I’m tellin’ it.
So some Chinese roommates were telling C one day (was A there too?) about how proud they were about the Chinese hero, Ghengis Khan. C, of course, told them that Ghengis Khan was not Chinese, that he invaded and conquered China.
This did not go over well. They were so upset, you think he had told them the way they were going to die. A desperate debate ensued, with the Chinese roommates pointing out that Inner Mongolia is part of China, and Khan was from Mongolia, and so therefore he was Chinese.
C’s arguement was this: you and I all know that Ghengis Khan was not Chinese, and that’s the truth.
They tried over time to get C to change his mind, waiting days sometimes for the right argument to come to them, and then springing their brilliant new discourse strategies at odd times; for example, like when he was studying.
Finally, C had to tell them to stop bothering him about it, as they were never going to convince him that Ghengis Khan was Chinese.
At this point, it became evident that the C’s version of the truth was hurting their feelings. They tried to get him to empathize. How would you like it, they asked him, if we said that Elvis was not American?
C’s reply: Elvis was American. He was from Tennessee. Ghengis Khan was not Chinese: he invaded and conquered China.
And then they pouted as if they had found a pubic hair in their ice cream.
So don’t tell them that Bruce Lee was born in San Francisco and called Seattle home. It would break their hearts.