When I'm reading some esoterica and the author does not science well, eg genetics, so I start stomping around my house yelling about how it doesn't work that way, and the ignorant m-f ought to know better... But then I have to get off of my high horse and finish the book, and feel grateful that it was published in the first place, and that lucky internet era me gets to read it at all. It's a really high, high horse, and anyone who wonders why my nose is shaped like this ought to watch me try to dismount some time. (My face, I fall upon it often.)