As a voracious imbiber of information, and let’s be honest, it’s hard not to be these days, sometimes I wonder if there’s anything left worth saying. If one even makes an attempt to consider all the considering that’s been done by all the considerers that have ever lived, their brain is likely to form a singularity and implode into nothing.
This strikes me as bad news, but that’s the craven in me. Like a lot of people on the interwebs, sometimes I just want to press go and sally forth, criticizing every inconsiderate consideration that comes my way. There are myriad voices doing just that, breaking down and dissecting the work of others. A lot of those voices are cutting and clever—others, not so much.
I don’t mean to cast myself in the role of a guy without opinions. It’s a meaningless endeavor, anyway. You can pull the “I don’t have an opinion” card, but that in itself is an opinion. It seems to me an impossibility to be an agnostic about “things.” Here I’m not referring to agnosticism in reference to religion (a bit trickier) but we can work back to it.
So let’s talk about the price of gas. I know, it’s exactly where you thought I was going. Anyway, today I went and filled up the tank. A little more expensive than the last time. That little price perched above the button was staring me in the face. It was hot and money was leaving my bank account. Did I have an opinion? Of course. I like my money where it is, I like it when it’s not so hot, and for the life of me I can’t understand why the frigging price has to fluctuate. That’s three opinions, actually, just for one simple process.
Now despite what some may think, I’m not a lunatic, so my reaction was to stand there and try to forget about it. You know, like non-lunatics do. Suppose I could start yelling at the pump or pointing my finger at the sun, maybe curse myself for not having boundless riches. Dude. I’d only be acting on my opinions, and is that so wrong?
Of course it is. Only a fool acts on all of his or her opinions. Fine. I get it world. So what, then? Which thoughts do we give voice to? How much unremitting mental crap should we box up and store away? In a world where speech is free (sort of) isn’t it another kind of crazy to let the basement of our brain become a scene from Hoarders?
In life we learn to let things go, and most of it is subconscious. No point worrying about that stuff. Folks say it’s healthy to engage with the world, to be a part of the process, to let yourself be heard. But only just so. You wouldn’t want to make someone uncomfortable, adjust in their seat, God forbid, make them question a long held belief. The answer? Working on it. Right now, I’m just going to let it all hang out. I like Italian food, books by writers that don’t suck, and movies made by people that tried. A little more etiquette would be nice, as well. I advocate for decency until someone proves to be your enemy.
Whew. That feels good. Glad to get the controversial stuff out of the way. Catharsis is the answer. Don’t be at the gas station next time I show up. It’s on.
See you after.