Sunday, July 10, 2016

Cutting Both Ways

Ah, that fabled double edged sword swings again, slicing and dicing anything and everything in its path.

I don't post much about recent events on social media. Sure, I want my voice to be heard as much as anyone because I too am under the delusion that what I say matters and since I am beloved on-and-off-line, the world is waiting with bated breath for whatever brilliant bon mot I am about to present free of charge. But be sure to like me, love me, send me a virtual hug from your adorable emoji of choice. But for Odin's sake, don't challenge me or my valued opinions in any way, shape or form because I won't engage you in a spirited debate, at least not in an reasonable span of time.

You see, I usually get online before work, not spending more than a half-hour total. If I were to post some comment stating "Trump is going to have us all killed his first year in office" or "Hillary should be led away in chains", it is bound  to get a reply that I won't be able to answer for at least nine hours. I'd get "You liberal morons are all alike" or "St. Hillary will save us all", then when I answer with "Go fuck your mother" or something else just as pithy when the sun goes down, the piss has been totally taken out of it and render the entire enterprise moot.

(Hey, wait a second. I might be on to something.)

But honestly, kiddies, this hit and run tactic, if I were to engage in it, reeks of cowardice, the kind that the Internet perpetuates on a regular basis. That is, of course, if I didn't respond at all. And if and when I do, the chances for a civil discussion on any potentially touchy subject in any of these forums are slim, fat and no. It's an increasingly niche society and we're all breaking off into our like-minded groups, ready to jump down the throat of any dissenter with an even slightly different point of view. But anyone who agrees with me can sit at the cool kids' table anytime they want. C'est la guerre.

On the other hand (or blade), I haven't said anything lately because I don't know where to start and have this sinking feeling how it's going to end. Not to get all FDR here, chillun, but fear is one of the main problems if not the core to the whole shooting match (morbid pun intended). Fear is a crippler. it closes your eyes, your ears, your voice and your mind. It weakens you to the point where you can do nothing at all. You wait for it all to blow over like a bad storm, only it not going to go away, is it? It keeps returning again and again, worsening with each cycle. Soon you won't be able to hide any longer and when it's time to finally cry out for help there won't be anyone to hear you. This fear of what-each other? The outside world?  No. Our own shadows will do us in and there ain't a dang thing you do about it because it'll too late, baby. 

Then there's the guilt factor, too. If I don't comment about Orlando or Dallas or whatever wretched man-made disaster has occurred in the world, I feel like a wimp for not speaking up. The same goes for the fallout every blithering idiot feels compelled to share with the masses, which is generally the case of preaching to the choir, rousing the rabble into the ugly mob it most certainly is. But at least I get to learn a few fun facts along the way. Thanks, everyone, for schooling me that the AR in AR-15 doesn't stand for assault or automatic rifle. It does stands for something the public shouldn't be allowed to own. Like a bazooka. Might be fun to shoot, but I don't want my neighbor to wield one on the Fourth. I've held my tongue-or typing finger-about this sewage dump known as an election season because the bile I would hork up from the pits of my soul will damage my keyboard. But if I lay down some plastic, I will. Black lives matter. Blue lives matter. Let's face it. We're all black and blue from the pummeling this world gives us on a continuing basis since we've forgotten or never learned to defend ourselves.

(So what exactly is the thrust here, Cherney? You're going back and forth like a crackhead's racquetball tournament.)

I suppose I want to direct this to those extreme Facebook friends o' mine who run the gamut from soup to nuts. I've got God-fearin', gun-lovin', raw meat eatin' conservatives on one side, red diaper doper baby liberals on another, crazed conspiracy theorists so far on the left they make Abbie Hoffman look like Roger Ailes over to one side and survivalist snickerdoodles who are waiting for instructions to attack from the Big Giant Head  bringing up the rear. (Diversity. It's what for dinner.) I try to respect everyone's opinion and not delete them entirely because I disagree with any given post not matter how insipid, offensive or out and out motherfucking stupid I find it to be. This is nothing more than passive aggressive culling on this increasingly Anti-Social Network. But not responding to your nonsense isn't helping either. I'm going to start calling you on your bullshit. You see, I have a mouth and I must scream. Of course, these will only be my opinions too. And if you call me on my crap which will be expected  since I can jerk a knee with the worst of them, it may take awhile before I reply. You'll have to be patient. Or you can be the answer to the age-old question, "How do you keep an asshole in suspense?"

Excuse me now. I've got a sword to sharpen, both sides now. Hope I don't cut myself in the process. But even if I do, let it bleed.






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