Of Blogging and Sticks: A Ramble

Posted on August 1, 2003 in Blogging Reflections Responsibility

Statistics suggest that you won’t read this or comment on it.

I’m having one of those days when my contempt for the blogging world is at a high. Beginning with myself, I see a lot of useless, page-filling punditry. When I try to write descriptions to counter the trend, I make them stagger. I go read elsewhere, make comments, and these, too are weak. Then I go back to read the response to something I have said and someone is rebutting me when I haven’t argued against them. I reread this sentence to see what about it made it sound as if I were rebutting them and find nothing, except that I did not elaborate much beyond the fact.

I let things stand for themselves too much, perhaps, which is a stylistic canon of mine. Speak, describe, state but do not philosophize.

And here, I violate my own canon.

Might I be better off being as blank as the wall, saying nothing? Oh dear: there I have gone and become one of “those blogs” whose writers “navel-gaze”. “Tell us what you think of Bush, give us the news or explain how to code!” the blog popularity contest polls reveal.

Of more than half the blogs I read on a daily basis, I know that I am seldom visited by their authors. Doubts come into my mind. The lack of a link says “I am not worth reading”. That’s all that can be said about it. Links come and go mysteriously. People seldom tell you why they moved you off. You just vanish. It’s an ungodly feeling. And much of today’s hot discussion in the blogging world involves grumbling about how people take the adding and deleting of links too personally. Blogs are personal letters to the world. So why should we not ache when we don’t see reciprocity? Implying that we cannot strikes me as inviting us to break the bone a second time.

I’ve been called a “lover of confrontation” lately. For speaking my mind and for pointing out things. And I’m a lunatic fringe, for asking offensive questions and speaking to what I see as meanness or silliness.

Another issue of the day: the repeated attacks on George W. Bush’s looks and his stuttering. I’m going to say it here that these bore me, yet they are very popular among the blogtensia. George W. Bush could speak perfectly and he could look like Apollo: he would still be a terrible president. When people write about superficial matters like these, it suggests to me that they don’t have much of substance to say. Why retort with the same cruelty that led conservatives to claim that Hillary Clinton is ugly or that you can’t tell the difference between Chelsea and Bill’s dog? All our politicians are performers, now. We judge them like we judge Britney Spears.

I’m sick of role models because they represent flimsy thinking. How does it feel to be a walking cardboard cutout — nothing but the eyes, the hair, the nose, etc. with a few expectations of behavior, I wonder? Then I look around and I see that happens to bloggers every day.

Yesterday at Barnes and Noble, I read a self help book about facing nasty people that looked like it might have interesting things to say for once. The author kept his advice simple: he didn’t raise any monoliths and declare that they were flesh. There was no “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus”, no instant chicken soups to salve the soul. Just good advice.

I always read the sections describing the worst possible person and then compare myself to the portrait. As usual, I do find myself, perhaps splintered, perhaps not so harsh, but there.

And I found myself in this book, the angry guy who jumps when he is “invalidated”, the victim who becomes a monster. Yes, I saw myself as others saw me in these past weeks and then, not quite as they saw me.

A story in the book got me thinking in a new way. It goes like this: a student goes to meet a master. The master sets out a tea service, brews a pot, and sets a cup before the student. He lays a stick on the floor beside him and says “If you drink that tea, I will hit you with this stick. If you don’t drink that tea, I will hit you with this stick.”

So what would you do if you were the student?

The author went on to describe how people reacted. Many expressed their helplessness. Others rose to violence. I answered that I’d get up and leave. This professional went on to say that there were two good answers that break out of the situation. Mine was one of the two he called “good”. But there was a pitfall: when you walk, you can’t talk to the master any more.

His other solution had not occured to me: you take away the stick, throw it out of the relationship.

It’s easy for me to apply the lesson of the stick in real life. I’m getting better at smiling and not responding when a lout starts up on me. Two weeks ago, at a political discussion group, I let a jerk cut me off in mid-sentence. His problem was that he wanted definitives, sound bytes, and I don’t do those, especially when the issue is politics. There are too many spider webs on which to pull on a subject. I prefer to leave my options open. I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders. The others saw and Nanette put him in line.

Sometimes you need to confront, to tell the person You misunderstood me. Or: You tried to silence me. People who try to shut you up have closed their minds to you, but what about the other people. Don’t they have a right to hear and make up their own minds when you have the floor, when you own the blog?

I’ve handled situations badly lately and I’ve handled them well. In last week’s imbroglio over the hunting of the naked lady, I took away someone’s stick by banning her. Public comment began and I took away another pair of sticks by deleting them. I am not ashamed of that. But looking over the discussion, I find myself still seeking critical insights into the bad. I can be loutish in my handling of things.

Another trick: when someone comes at you with all flame flying, tell them that you didn’t understand what they were getting at. When you get down to that, there’s truth in the statement. I find that flames cause me to read less closely, to miss salvagable wisdom. If the person has a conscience, chances are that they will repeat what they said less virulently. Then you may learn or perhaps open a door to teach. If they continue to flame, then you say “OK, that’s what I thought you said” and leave it. It works well in comments. Just keep blogging. And take away the stick if they keep it up.

I might have used this last week to better effect, I think.

I’ve talked a lot about my own inner life here, subjected myself to critical examination. Some say that makes me arrogant because it is a brash statement to the effect that I am willing to work towards Perfection. I don’t see anything wrong with that as long as I realize that I am not there yet.

And this brings me back to the problem with the popular blogs: there’s very little self-examination, a lot of talk about politics, links to cute sites, rants about relatives, etc. I, too, err over the lines. It’s human to do so. But what does it make of me if I don’t examine my conscience sometimes ? How much can you trust me to weigh out what I say and say my best take on the truth if I don’t do this?

I wouldn’t trust myself, to be truthful, if I did not do this.

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A rethink on banning. It’s more of the walking out than the removal of the stick. But sometimes the master is psychotic and already has the stick in hand. It’s best to run, then, after you have tried to take away the stick and remain seated. I don’t think I did a very first attempt on the problem and hence I was left with walking in the end.