Edgar Allen Poe grandly called it "The Imp of the Perverse" but that's a bit swell-headed ever for a Raven's fan-I tend to refer to it as "my evil twin, Skippy" and have it on good authority that many acquaintances refer to me as "Skippy's stupid twin, Bill." (Sadly, we're all correct which is a singular sensation of a sort rarely seen in these parts)
It's when your ears hear your voice and mouth say something that your brain refuses to believe it formulated in the first place and Michael Jeffries of Abercrombie and Fitch is the most recent and, admittedly, egregious example that comes to mind.
As a reward for what I'm sure he sees as unflinching and a to be admired and emulated corporate fearless honesty in defining whom he sees as his company's customers, Mr. Jeffries has been pummeled from Pinterest to YouTube and back. As someone who used to fantasize incessantly in prep school about strafing the cool kids' lunch table, I haven't shed many tears over the beatings.
Some have been high criticism, sharp as knives and as caustic as lye while others have made him a victim of a smug self-righteous kind of holier than thouness which makes me throw up a little bit in my own mouth. Perhaps I am a little jealous-as I can't afford to spend so much and get so little so I avoid A & F the way a bulimic skips an all you can eat buffet, but I can't help but concede to the eternal inevitability of the wisdom of Messrs. Beard, Gibbons & Hill.