Walking in Memphis
Kittimaru, quit with the memes; they aren't necessary. If you can't convey your indignation in words, then don't do so at all. I was called out earlier today (quite correctly) for not reading preceding posts in a thread; my skimming habit has developed largely as a result of being constantly forced to scroll rapidly through clutter and noise in order to find anything worth reading. That doesn't only apply to memes, of course, but the point is inclusive of them.
Your take is incorrect, at any rate; that isn't what I said. Tiassa was quite right, really - that comment was a little disconnected from the main topic. I get that way, sometimes. By way of explanation (or perhaps excuse), I find it difficult to remain focussed on one thing at the expense of seeing the wider view. I've never believed that a solution to any particular problem can be found without considering the consequences of that solution across the entire operation.
I believe that if I were ever to write a novel, I'd still be unsatisfied that I did not have the capacity to convey everything I meant to say. A novel is something too large for me. Or perhaps... too small.
A meme is simply laziness - aptly suited, perhaps, to this environment, but loathsome nonetheless.
Tiassa:
And in truth, I find the general lack of human empathy you've shown over the years just as disgusting now as it always was.
Empathy.
Such a charged word to use, particularly when the real difference between empathy and sympathy are not commonly understood. And used in a discussion concerning
rape, no less. I'll assume, if you like, that you've had the experienced of being raped and can indeed empathise. Is that what you're trying to tell me?
Although I suppose I can give you a hall pass based on your preceding "
general lack". I'll assume you meant that deliberately, as opposed to just using it for padding. My
general lack of empathy. All right.
I read your little "walk on by" story, a couple of days ago. I suppose I have to give at least some credit for you being honest, assuming, of course, that you were; but at the same time I'm mindful that I sometimes dole out these little tidbits myself. I
like to see how people try to use them.
I myself have been in a similar situation. One which did not concern rape, but nonetheless a situation in which a very young child needed help. I was young myself, not yet even a teenager; but I did not fail.
I sometimes wonder if I would fail as an adult. I don't think so.
Have you seen the movie
Tigerland? I'm Bozz. I'm Paxton, too. I would get out of that van as Bozz did; and I would like you a little less for making me.
I very much doubt you'd ever understand why.
You, on the other hand, don't have the same motive. Those little confessions, they're an example of your pain, aren't they. Your
understanding. Your
compassion. The weight of the world, upon
your shoulders. All of this, around you... the suffering. the pain. The pain. Oh, G
od, the pain.
Can they not
see how you suffer? For
them. And when you did fail, once... oh. Your
humanity.
Your suffering.
You're a John Lennon lookalike whom no one has gotten around to putting a bullet into yet. The General of the Disenfranchised. Or perhaps... you'd settle for being a lieutenant. But not a private, right? Oh, no.
You claim to be empathic. But you're ready and willing to use a post, twist it into an unrecognisable mess to pursue your own agenda. To further your own ideals. What exactly is it that makes you any different to those currently engaged in furthering their own ideals on the border of Turkey? They believe as much as you do.
Oh, right. you just attempt to demolish egos. From a distance. With a metaphorical, carefully annotated pen.
The perfect, victimless, white collar crime.
And you'd make it illegal, if you could. If you were the victim. But not until.
You find me disgusting? All right. I can accept that. I find you to be... merely ordinary.
My emotions, Tiassa, aren't for sale to any Japanese businessman who can put a couple of bucks into a vending machine for a schoolgirl's used panties.
You're welcome to interpret that as a lack of empathy. I, however, do not.
Come back at me, yo.
Or you can sit back and ignore, pretend you're above all that. Show me your ...
empathy.
Give it to me real.
...
Trooper - that's the second time you've tried to slap me in a few days.
I'm not trying to seduce you, you know. Well... maybe a little. But only to the extent a man walking into a crowded party will always put on the charm in order to gain the attention of the attractive women in the room.
That, by the way, was not an invitation to explore the merits of my own particular brand of... charm.
Or whether or not you want
that particular person to offer his support.
As we're all told with authority, but also, curiously, often only admonished - No means No.
Doesn't it.
Touched down, in the land of the Delta Blues...
in the middle of the pouring rain.