Objectively speaking, some people are idiots; there’s no “nice” way of getting around the point. I’m not talking about people who disagree with us on principle; I’m talking about 14-carat morons who deny long-established reality.
And their joining forces with other idiots changes NOTHING. Even in pontificating hordes, they’re still idiots, and people who are actually capable of coherent thoughts have to deal with them.
I came across two episodes this past week, both of which solidified my opinion. They highlighted the utter stupidity that’s inherent in unwarranted absolutism.
One involved a protracted hissy fit between two people at opposite ends of the political spectrum: a die-hard RIGHTY and an equally die-hard LEFTY—been going on for close to 10-months, it has.
I’m not identifying either of them; it simply wouldn’t accomplish anything. In both cases their minds are made-up, and neither of them is about to become confused by facts; it’s like listening in on a conversation between two not very bright drunks.
The second episode involved a conversation I overheard—and I wasn’t the ONLY one, either—between two young men that I estimated to be in their mid-20s—regarding their reactions to a co-worker’s terminal diagnosis.
It seemed that the coworker had received word that he’s terminal with six to eight months to live. Apparently he had not taken the news well to say the least. I’ll get to this in a few minutes; politics FIRST.
I’m a Righty, but I voted for Obama . . . TWICE. I must also add that I’m terribly disappointed with his performance in office to date. It isn’t that I totally disagree with his Lefty platform; I don’t.
Nor is Obama the Anti-Christ, as many of his sworn enemies—some of whom are simply flat-out racists—contend.
I’m an old man. I realized long ago that this county is home to a majority of people endowed with Lefty social consciences but also endowed with Righty pocketbooks.
The problem nowadays isn’t that there’s no middle ground, but rather that no one knows how, or even seems willing, to seek it. And I blame this as much on Obama and the Left, as I do on Boehner and the Right.
Here’s the thing. The purpose of FACTS is to help people arrive at the TRUTH. But the problem is that two people looking at identical facts can LEGITIMATELY arrive at DIFFERENT truths.
And even in the world of politics, intelligent people realize this, and they’re willing to discuss things and come to workable compromises. It’s the way things in our political structure worked for decades.
It’s also true that, in politics, the prime directive is getting elected; TRUTH is a secondary concern, and then ONLY if it facilitates the prime directive. In either case, though, FACTS are irrelevant. It’s all about SATISFYING the audiences listening to the speeches.
This, too, has always been true. But the problem has become the rapidly plunging intellectual and emotional IQs of this nation’s average voter—30% of them can’t even name the three branches of government!
Personally, I’m glad I’m closer to the end of my life than I am to its middle. Unless we snap ourselves back to intellectual and emotional reality, I think this great nation has begun circling the drain of world irrelevancy.
Now, about that terminal diagnosis above. Apparently his two “buddies” think he should have taken the news in a more “manly” fashion; at least that was my take on their comments.
I’m not aware of any standardized way of reacting to a terminal diagnosis. So I’m inclined to grant the diagnosee a ton of slack. But his “buddies’” tones relative to his reaction—at least in my mind—left much to be desired.
Your fundamental psychologist would probably diagnose their attitudes as bordering on a pathological lack of empathy, but your typical shirtsleeve American—including ME—would simply call them “assholes.”
Quoting the late Andy Rooney, “Death is a distant rumor to the young.” And speaking from personal experience and ONLY for myself, I agree with him.
As countless others before me have done, I spent the first one-third of my life as an ID-carrying resident of a realm called “Young,” all the while blissfully insensitive to the reality that it was NOT a kingdom WITHOUT end. I seldom gave death any thought at all.
But it gradually dawned on me—and I didn’t like the thought one bit—that EVERYONE dies at some point . . . from some cause. And STILL, the thought’s real impact didn’t smack me nearly as hard at the age of twenty-six as it does NOW, at the age of seventy-two.
Even now, as an old geezer, death’s inevitability still strikes me as more of a nagging angst than a genuine resolution to its certainty. And seeing as how no physician has yet to confirm otherwise, my departure REMAINS a rumor—at least in my mind—only not quite as distant a one!
But I suspect that, age notwithstanding, terminal diagnoses produce knee-buckling sensations for many people, and that they are compounded even more when the physician lets them know—with incredibly accurate statistical certainty—approximately when they’re due to check out.