Who Cares What I Think About...Anything?
“You understand what I’m saying? It’s not constitutional. You can’t force me to wear a mask. It’s against the law. You understand what I’m saying here? You can’t make mmrrr gbbuttds numklloo burgley shumo...”
Like the teacher in the Peanuts cartoons, the guy was talking but his words became garbled and unintelligible. It wasn’t him. Despite the borderline sociopathy and stupidity of his rant, he was still speaking clearly. I just no longer cared enough about the content of his opinion to bother listening any longer.
His is one voice amongst the ear-shattering din of at least a couple hundred million with internet access and cable television who has a goddamned opinion. His is an opinion I’ve heard a thousand times in the past few months. I know that to him, his opinion is incredibly important but I simply do not give a fuck.
Later, while looking through my last remaining social media time-suck, Instagram, one of my photos (of me in Evel Pie wearing my mask and throwing the horns) has garnered a messaged. A Chicago acquaintance, a really funny guy except for his strident Wokeness, jumps on to scold me for having a mask with one of those plastic vent things.
I simply type in laughter because, while he is a smart, mostly informed cat, I don’t care what he thinks of my mask. I didn’t ask for his input, it effects him in no way, so who cares?
I realize, coming from me, that the following statement will likely cause neck injuries from the Bugs Bunny face shaking incredulity, but you don’t have to have a strong opinion about everything.
Since ridding myself of membership in the Faceborg/Twitter clubs, I’m finding that place where I’m no longer quite so hellbent on my own opinions. I certainly have ideas and perspectives but I’m limiting them to what one person who decided that my perspective on free college was just too much for her, the ‘cum sock’ of LiterateApe.com. If you want to know what my opinion is on just about anything, you can seek it out.
If you solicit my advice, I’m happy to share it. My wife calls it the ‘Tough Love Guru’ and, given it comes from an older man, it has in common the ‘suck it up and learn to be an adult’ sort of viewpoint expected. Otherwise, I’m learning to do something it seems everyone has forgotten: the lost art of minding my own fucking business.
I used to think my opinion mattered. I genuinely thought it did. What I’ve come to comprehend is that my opinion matters as much to most people as most people’s opinions matter to me. I’ve also concluded that while there are definitely opinions I hold strongly, most aspects of society do not evoke a passionate response.
Cultural appropriation? Don’t much care.
The debate over biological science versus transgender ideology? Not my fight.
Free college? Already went and paid so knock yourself out.
We’re living in ugly times. Violent protesters encountering police with tear gas. Armed counter-protesters shooting kids who claim to be antifascist while simultaneously becoming fascists in technique. A cancel culture denied by the very Twitterazzi who proliferate it in a bizarre form of gaslighting (“He wasn’t canceled. He is just being held accountable.”). Two months before an epic election. Eight months into a global pandemic. A few months away from a near economic collapse.
Too much to have opinions about. Not enough smarts to go around. So many folks doing all they can to be seen and heard without having anything to say. The internet has created a thing called Opinion Inflation.
In the olden days, if your dry cleaner did a crap job, you went to a different dry cleaner. Now you go on Yelp! and let the world know about your shitty experience. Back in the day, if someone tipped poorly, you remembered them and gave them less service. Now we take a picture of the lack of tip and share our opinion on bad tippers.
Every individual experience becomes a referendum on the entirety of society. It’s fucking boring. It’s maddening. It’s a cultural shitshow.
But then I remind myself that events that seem apocalyptic today sometimes end up being hugely positive if we’re patient. That tiny things that go unreported can have huge effects and the things that make the headlines can often amount to nothing more than noise.
In the Great Book of Human History, the trends are pointed in the right direction, albeit slowly. Progress is a methodical thing and often hits obstacles, has setbacks, and change is scary for most.
I’ll still write about my opinions as much as I want on this platform. If you’re interested, cool. If not, cool. If you disagree, I’ll engage because that’s how this is supposed to work. If you yell like a homeless meth addict, I’ll just ignore you because that’s what we do with the stupid or the insane.
Just like I ignore Trump, the rabid social justice Twittermob, and that guy who doesn’t like my mask.
