So no shit, there I was, ignoring my own rule about reading the comment section. I suppose it’s only fair that I occasionally beak my own rules - don’t want to discriminate after all. Nevertheless, I generally like my own rules, and I put them there for very good reasons. In this case, it has to do with hygiene and self-respect. Reading what some people write makes me feel wrong, like I have been slamming back distilled ignorance aged in barrels of condescending vitriol. Varying opinions I can take. I like them in fact. But reading the comments section leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth and a general disorientation.
Years ago when I first went online, the web was just beginning. Gopher was the king of the internet (ten points if you know what Gopher is). I first became interested in figuring out what this internet thing was by seeing letters in Rolling Stone which, instead of giving a name and a city, gave a name and a strange set of symbols: xxxx@xxx.edu (virtually all users had an .edu account back then). I thought it fascinating that people were beginning to identify themselves not by where they were in space, but by where they could be reached. People were beginning to, essentially, BE their own geography. Kind of interesting. When I got online and saw what was happening, I thought that this new way of interacting would eventually create new means of expression, new genres, if you will. And it did. The webpage, for example. The blog, obviously. And, inhabiting the lower reaches of the Digital Frontier, the comment section.
I love the idea of the comment section, but the actuality makes me queasy (oddly, the exact opposite of my reaction to Wikipedia). Marketplace of ideas, free exchange, etc. - sounds so good in theory, and, in some formats, in reality. But the comments sections have just gone wrong, like there is something lurking in there that infects potentially useful attempts to communicate, and, like some alien bacteria or fungus from a bad sci-fi movie, transmutes them into festering blobs of mucus.
Except I don’t think that it is actually alien. What it really feels like is very human impulses unrestrained by convention. We are a species with massive variation in temperament, motivation, sense of aesthetic, values and, for want of a better term, source of jollies. In our actual lives, in our jobs and careers, in our families and with our friends, we express much of what we are. I wonder, though, if there are bits of us that are begging to be let out, but which we wisely keep leashed and muzzled so as to keep ourselves in the company of gentle people who have agreed to leash and muzzle themselves as well. Our society can handle quite a bit, but it does ask for a great deal of restraint in return, and the acceptable spectrum of behaviors, attitudes, and beliefs is narrowing all the time. This is not ideology specific - conservatives, liberals (or “progressives”, if you prefer), punks, rock and rollers - most groups seem to be pulling their boundaries in a bit more tightly these days.
And it irritates us. This is why the term “politically correct” has developed. In actuality, the term really just means “polite”. Try substituting the words sometime, and see if I’m right. “Politically correct” allows us to recognize the anger and/or frustration that comes from feeling that there are all those “others” out there that we need to be polite to. It makes “polite” a negative, which is how we sometimes feel.
The comments section blows all this up. The anonymity, the lack of a personal community to offend, and the opportunity speak without being accountable for ideas, attitude, or spelling make for a perfect storm, creating a space for disgorging all the half-digested ideas and feelings that have been simmering in our more acidic juices, seeking an outlet. A new genre indeed, but one expressing old truths. I suppose this is, on some levels, a healthy thing, reminiscent of a medieval medicinal purge - a psychic high colonic. I suppose there will be some, and this is the danger, who find meaning in what is spewed there, but I think sifting through the vomitorium that is the comments section is more likely to leave one infected rather than enlightened. Sometimes breaking a rule reminds us of why it was made in the first place. Pax.
Tuesday 19 June 2012
Monday 18 June 2012
Weddings
So no shit, there I was, inside a Catholic church, surrounded by very devout folk celebrating the Sacrament (definitely capital “S”) of marriage. In Latin.
Now I enjoy Latin as much as the next guy, unless we include as the next guy the folks who were in that church that afternoon. They absolutely love it. But that’s another story. This story is about the wedding, and more generally, weddings. Well, actually it's not, but that's where we'll start. Weddings are almost always delightful experiences, and this one was not an exception. It was the first wedding I had attended in quite some time where I was not the officiant, and it was pleasant to just watch.
Weddings speak volumes of people’s values and interests. A wise friend once told me that weddings are the only time in a couple’s life that they can stand up in front of their family and friends and say “This is who we are! This is what we want to be!”. It is a shame to squander that opportunity, and, bottom line, I think people almost never do. A quick trip to Vegas may well reveal that, for that couple, stepping quickly into the future is more important than a nod to older traditions or relationships. A brief civil ceremony followed by a serious party says volumes about the priorities and expectations of a couple.
The first wedding I officiated was that of my niece. We spent quite a bit of time working on exactly what they wanted to say, and how they wanted to say it. It included elements of her groom’s Jewish traditions, as well as elements that reflected her own rather unusual upbringing. We spent a lot of time on the vows. This is, to me, is what it is really all about. What, exactly, are you promising to each other? Everything else - the dress, the centerpieces, the seating arrangements, the DJ - is commentary and window dressing. They are grand fun, but the vows are where the meat is.
Over many weddings, I’ve seen vows go all over the place. In my own wedding, we included a vow to “forgive, and to accept forgiveness”, which has been very nice to have had in writing and on the record. I like vows that make a statement about the personalities, histories, and dreams of the couple. For one wedding we incorporated words from pop standard songs, and in another, there was a poem about dinosaurs. The wedding yesterday used traditional vows, with no apparent modifications at all, and that too was a statement.
Statements at the beginning of an adventure are important, and sometimes even inspiring. A coach giving a pep talk before a game, the christening of a ship, even a preamble to a constitution are statements of what we desire, what we hope, what destination we wish to travel towards. They are full of hope and expectations of success. Often the hoped for outcome is realized - but not always. The statistics are clear - half of the teams playing the game will lose, In around half of the marriages, the couple do part before death. Despite what your AYSO coach may have taught you, life is not all orange slices and Capri Sun, and not everybody gets a cookie, a trophy, a recording contract or their own TV show. Sorry if I’m the first to mention this.
There are, however some extraordinary victories. Today is Fathers Day. It is an interesting holiday, often lost in the more intense and particular celebration of graduations. The old joke, back when phone calls were expensive, was that more long-distance phone calls were made on Mothers Day than on any other day, while Fathers Day saw the most collect calls. Nowadays, with free phone calls, email, texting, and social networks, one can see a different phenomena - the public tribute. Looking at FaceBook, one can see person after person posting a note, a picture (or substituting a father’s picture for their own profile), a thank-you - something to honor their fathers.
These are statements and reflections not at the start of a relationship, but often decades into it, or after it has ended with the passing of the father. These are statements and proclamations of success, of values passed on, hope fulfilled, of destinations reached. None of these comments say that the journey was without its jolts and hiccups, but they express the gratitude and the satisfaction, nearly to a person, of having “the best Dad ever.” This is good, and I hope that everybody who is, who has had, or who has found a father can see in this a recognition that in difficult enterprises, over many years, despite setbacks and resets, if we can hold on, we can hope to be seen in the end though loving eyes. Capri Sol et aurantiaco crustae indeed. Pax.
Now I enjoy Latin as much as the next guy, unless we include as the next guy the folks who were in that church that afternoon. They absolutely love it. But that’s another story. This story is about the wedding, and more generally, weddings. Well, actually it's not, but that's where we'll start. Weddings are almost always delightful experiences, and this one was not an exception. It was the first wedding I had attended in quite some time where I was not the officiant, and it was pleasant to just watch.
Weddings speak volumes of people’s values and interests. A wise friend once told me that weddings are the only time in a couple’s life that they can stand up in front of their family and friends and say “This is who we are! This is what we want to be!”. It is a shame to squander that opportunity, and, bottom line, I think people almost never do. A quick trip to Vegas may well reveal that, for that couple, stepping quickly into the future is more important than a nod to older traditions or relationships. A brief civil ceremony followed by a serious party says volumes about the priorities and expectations of a couple.
The first wedding I officiated was that of my niece. We spent quite a bit of time working on exactly what they wanted to say, and how they wanted to say it. It included elements of her groom’s Jewish traditions, as well as elements that reflected her own rather unusual upbringing. We spent a lot of time on the vows. This is, to me, is what it is really all about. What, exactly, are you promising to each other? Everything else - the dress, the centerpieces, the seating arrangements, the DJ - is commentary and window dressing. They are grand fun, but the vows are where the meat is.
Over many weddings, I’ve seen vows go all over the place. In my own wedding, we included a vow to “forgive, and to accept forgiveness”, which has been very nice to have had in writing and on the record. I like vows that make a statement about the personalities, histories, and dreams of the couple. For one wedding we incorporated words from pop standard songs, and in another, there was a poem about dinosaurs. The wedding yesterday used traditional vows, with no apparent modifications at all, and that too was a statement.
Statements at the beginning of an adventure are important, and sometimes even inspiring. A coach giving a pep talk before a game, the christening of a ship, even a preamble to a constitution are statements of what we desire, what we hope, what destination we wish to travel towards. They are full of hope and expectations of success. Often the hoped for outcome is realized - but not always. The statistics are clear - half of the teams playing the game will lose, In around half of the marriages, the couple do part before death. Despite what your AYSO coach may have taught you, life is not all orange slices and Capri Sun, and not everybody gets a cookie, a trophy, a recording contract or their own TV show. Sorry if I’m the first to mention this.
There are, however some extraordinary victories. Today is Fathers Day. It is an interesting holiday, often lost in the more intense and particular celebration of graduations. The old joke, back when phone calls were expensive, was that more long-distance phone calls were made on Mothers Day than on any other day, while Fathers Day saw the most collect calls. Nowadays, with free phone calls, email, texting, and social networks, one can see a different phenomena - the public tribute. Looking at FaceBook, one can see person after person posting a note, a picture (or substituting a father’s picture for their own profile), a thank-you - something to honor their fathers.
These are statements and reflections not at the start of a relationship, but often decades into it, or after it has ended with the passing of the father. These are statements and proclamations of success, of values passed on, hope fulfilled, of destinations reached. None of these comments say that the journey was without its jolts and hiccups, but they express the gratitude and the satisfaction, nearly to a person, of having “the best Dad ever.” This is good, and I hope that everybody who is, who has had, or who has found a father can see in this a recognition that in difficult enterprises, over many years, despite setbacks and resets, if we can hold on, we can hope to be seen in the end though loving eyes. Capri Sol et aurantiaco crustae indeed. Pax.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)