I used to drink lots of Cappuccinos in my early 20s.  I would have them in between classes at university, seated beside a large window so the sun could stream in and from where I could see the banks of the Bann across the road.  I didn't know the milk in the cappuccinos was causing the severe acne I suffered from during those years.  

The doctors didn't know either.  I got plenty of advice and was prescribed antibiotics.  I can remember being peered at knowingly, as if the Doctor knew something but didn't convey it to me because, either his efforts were to valuable to waste on me, or because I simply wouldn't understand.  He didn't know though, as much as he acted like he knew everything.  He actually hadn't a baldy notion at all.  

Now, as I look back, I resent the doctor for his ignorance and his arrogance.  Part of me envies him too though, for having managed to live the majority of his adult life in a comfortable little bubble where there was no questioning the assumed truth that he was brilliant, dashing and wonderful.

Everyone needs the occasional fall from self-declared grace.  The Recognition of the fallibility of our humanity brings with it an acceptance of our flaws.  People try to ignore their flaws, their humanity.  I hate the narcissistic norm we have now, and I loathe those who strive for glory, recognition and adoration with no thought or care about whether or not its deserved.