June 1st, 2007


There, I said it (eleven in a series)

Looks like there's been a major dustup in the LiveJournal world that I didn't even need to know about, much less care about. Such drama, "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing"! In situations like this, it seems some are so hungry for meaning in their lives that they whip up a "cause" from something small and self-involved, under a mask of "rights" and "advocacy." Righteous indignation is tiresome, and it's physically impossible for my eyes to roll enough to adequately respond to terms like "thought police" being used in reference to LJ. Please. If this is your definition of oppression or suffering, your world is terribly small and sheltered. Wake up. Read a newspaper. Maybe go outside for a walk.

(While I know that "fandom" is a popular and rewarding interest among friends I deeply respect, I'm happy to be a fan without all the other baggage. The craziness certainly can't be equated with the fandom construct, but it does seem to be an ample breeding ground.)

I'm glad not to need to take a side. The pressure to always have an opinion about everything is a self-important distraction of our time and culture, a far lesser substitute for a truly examined life. It's popular to rail against apathy, but well-chosen apathy might simply be a sign of humility and prioritized living.

That said, while I know some reactions to child sexual abuse (one of the dominos in this LJ drama) may seem extreme, I find it a far better motivation for action—even mistaken action—than those who cling to indignance even once their concerns have been addressed (regardless of whether they got their way—that's probably the real issue, aside from the feelings of power and significance that some may not want to relenquish). Dealing with issues surrounding child sexual abuse has recently become a regular part of my life. I've seen the effects of the powerful temptation to not even call it what it is, much less really address its implications and consequences. Who wouldn't want to avoid it? But we can't. We mustn't. It's not just a matter of lust and casual missteps, easily righted through self-examination and conflict resolution. It's deep sickness and brokenness, working out in patterns of power, control, and the violence of imposing will and action on those least able to resist. That's the kind of thing that requires response, even when it's not perfect.