I've had some questions as to what the Cordelia thing refers to, besides an obvious love for all things Joss Whedon. In my recent but supremely adult adulthood, I have found that neither The Ethicist nor Dear Abby are at all helpful in managing real life situations. Instead, I find myself asking "What would Cordelia do?"
I'm going through email queries, and once again, we have the Jackass Query, which is presenting the world's worst idea, with numerous typos and malapropisms, but I bravely read, type a polite rejection, and delete the thing before it further pollutes my computer. And minutes later (proving that said Jackass has nothing to do with his life but sit in front of his computer) I get a blistering response, telling me that I have no brain, much less a future in publishing--I have turned down a work of art! A bestseller! I'm the bitch that made Van Gogh cut off his ear!
Now, what would Cordelia do?
She would respond, of course, pointing out succintly that Mr. Mean Jackass Guy has a) no writing skills, b) no plotting skills, and c) no testicles.
What did I do?
I deleted the thing and went on with my day.