How You Know You're a Good Leader (Humor)
Everyone needs to realize that it's something you're born with. It simply can't be taught. That's why they should buy a $4,000 seat to your seminar.
I served in God's Marine Corps for 5 years. I've played me some World of Warcraft. I attended a Christian college, where I was in the ministerial track for a couple years.
Believe me, I've met my share of born leaders.
You're a machine built from confidence, mouth tobacco and energy drinks with a bachelor's degree in Creative Writing and a year of The Basic School. You have no technical expertise whatsoever, but you've got a butter bar on your collar infusing your entire body with importantness. You've read every book on the Commandant's reading list and you agree with none of them.
You're the kind of guy/girl that walks into a room, stance wide, hands on your hips, and you breathe in through your nose deeply as you behold the little people at work. You want to be on a first name basis with people three ranks above you, but God help the lance corporal who doesn't see and salute you.
You like making examples. PFC Schmuckatelli is 21 and gets picked up making a ruckus at a local watering hole? Better burn him, for the good of the unit. It's nothing like when you were in college, though.
You like standing in front of your unit on a Friday afternoon. You know they want to go home. You know you have absolutely nothing to say. But you're still going to stand there with your arms crossed, confident grin on your face and basking in the aura of your own command presence as you remind these savages once more not to run rampant burning, pillaging and raping their way through Oceanside.
You're more concerned with checklists than intangibles like mission accomplishment or troop welfare. What's that, Sergeant? Your wife is giving birth? Well, you know we got that Family Appreciation Day coming up, and you volunteered to grill the dogs. Better get on that. Good thing we got Tricare, huh, buddy?
You've been called by God and blessed with special knowledge for these poor unwashed plebes. If only they could understand the special truths you have been gifted with, the insight!
The festering, stinking masses of humanity need you and your message. You don't need this worthless scrap of man's paper from an institution time-honored for producing pastors, missionaries and evangelists. You don't need Mrs. Campini lecturing you on your grammar. God gave you those words; how can they be wrong? Take no thought what ye shall say, right?
Oh ho, and don't get you started on Homiletics. The very idea that preaching can be taught? You're called and chosen, baby! Anyone who thinks different can go to...Heaven! (You also think that's hilarious and edgy, without actually swearing).
You respect the great elders of the faith, but you think they've gotten a little complacent. Their fire is clearly gone out, and it might be better to step aside and let someone with some vision take over. Not you, necessarily, but if the Lord wills, then, you know...
The preaching at school is okay, but nothing like the podcasts you listen to. In fact, you've been scripting your own podcasts, ready to just start the next revival in America. If the church of today just did its job, God wouldn't have raised you up, but here you are, and you're ready.
You're an inchoate seething rage monster. You started this guild to actually get some raids done and rank on the leaderboards, and instead, you get the simpering, whining chum buckets on your roster. It takes a leader to topple Sylvanas Windrunner, and by the Horde, you are that leader.
You launch into long descriptions of your phenomenal math skills and dungeon mechanics to your co-workers at Carl's Jr. You study the top streamers religiously and comment on every video, often challenging those with the audacity to be both wrong and vocal to actual physical fights, which you know they'll never show up to because they're just Internet trolls.
You despise girl gamers. They're never serious enough about the game. You know they just want attention. The guys in your guild keep getting their girlfriends into the game and demand that they join the guild, too, and you have to let them, because you need that PVP-geared undead ice sorcerer!
God help the DPS who can't manage his aggro. You will unload on him with the rage of Blazerunner, fire elemental lord of Un'goro Crater. "For crap's sakes, AtomicFrog, if you don't drop some heals on Seahawk, I will get you all banned from this server, because I know the GMs and they listen to me! xMiagIx, BuddyPalTRex, why are you $^&E#&% pulling?"
"I swear, I'm just gonna give up on WoW. This whole server is just garbage. I miss Classic."
I bet you know some born leaders, too. Comment below with your favorites!