One of the most interesting things I've ever read at Daily Kos, and how it relates to cats
Even as a rather left-leaning individual, I really, REALLY make the attempt to weed the dreck out of liberal articles just as much as I do out of conservative articles, in the attempt to get to the truth of the matter. While there are lots of folks who believe everything they read in their journal of choice, whether it be from the left or the right, I really try not to do that. So when I read Daily Kos, I find myself, very often, feeling the same level of frustration that a lot of my more conservative brethren do, because, it can often take an important issue, an important conversation, and turn it into a spleen-venting tirade, replete with shaky facts and unintelligible argument.
Which is what we accuse the conservatives of doing, yes?
However, that said, periodically one can and will come across a gem, that, with almost laser-like precision, identifies a problem of communication between the left and the right that is astonishing in both its brilliance and its stupifying simplicity.
This is, in my humble opinion, one of those.
One of the more amusing things about bringing a new kitty into the house is watching them working it out to fit in with the others. And one of the more interesting aspects of these tentative feline negotiations is watching the older, more established kitty members of this household trying to "duke it out" with the new baby, and the new baby's invariable confusion as they try to figure out why.
The baby has just come from a litter, where, while there is no doubt a certain hierarchy, the presence of others is not only a given, but desirable. In a litter, there is always someone to play with, to cuddle with, to socialize with. It is, in essence, a teeny, tiny community, and the advantages to being a part of that community are obvious to every kit in the litter.
The very presence of others is a part of the nurturing environment of those first few weeks.
Weaning commences, and each little one finds itself striking out on its own, and creating its own space in the world. When this space involves being introduced to a new home with other, older cats, the general response of a socially healthy kitten is usually, "YAY! New friends!"
The older cats, who have already established their community, are less enthusiastic.
So what happens is that kitty comes bouncing into the new community with openness, and with the sense of cooperation that he brought from the litter, prepared to be included but, due to their own awareness of their newness and smallness, not really wanting to overthrow the standing order. They are just trying to learn where they fit into that order, just the way they learned where their place was, from the blind and helpless time of their birth, at their mother's teats.
But the older cats do not initially see a new friend. They see a potential usurper--a threat to the established order. And this potential threat must be quashed by any means possible, because the older kitties, for all their size and obvious dominance, are threatened by a six ounce kitten.
This is a critical point. Critical. Because we human observers watch this, baffled that our larger and stronger kitty friends are hissing, spitting, marking, shredding curtains and otherwise acting out against a baby as if we have brought a tiger cub who could eat them in one bite into the house, when the reality is that the baby is really no threat to them at all. The baby, in fact, is not only the most vulnerable creature in the room in the aspect of their physical presence, but also in their emotional demeanor in that they just want to get along.
Baby just wants to be let in, with no idea in his little kitty brains at all that he's going to infiltrate and conquer.
He doesn't even know what that means.
But see, the big guys don't know that. They are far removed from the days of the litter, and have worked, hard, to get to where they are. They have proven themselves. They have made themselves comfortable. They are completely unaware of the fact that this new creature wants to be friends, because they are convinced that they are somehow about to be replaced in the social order of both other cats and humans in the household. They are unaware of the fact that nothing is going to change--that they will still be fed, that they will still get ear skritches and the favored spot on the back of the sofa to sleep. They don't have to fight for any of these things--but they believe they must, because they don't realize that, number one, baby needs to find his own place, and, number two, they are still accepted, cared for and loved--and always will be--because of their own unique and irreplacable part in their own hierarchy.
In this dynamic, there is heartrending compassion to be felt for both sides. Each in their own way, they are suffering--the baby because he must fight, cheerfully, almost continual hostility and rejection, and the others because they are clearly afraid for their own position in the homes and hearts of the people and the other cats with whom they have established a connection, and the space that they have come to believe is home.
This is exactly what goes on between the pluralists and the fundamentalists in this country.
Small-l liberals don't want to take anything away from the fundamentalists. They don't want to overthrow anyone's beliefs or lifestyles or worldviews. But what they do want is to be able to find and establish their own space within society, knowing and believing that there is room for everyone, and that diversity and sociability can be and usually is an advantage. A space that nurtures everyone. But fundamentalists cannot let go the idea that inclusion must always involve a relinquishing of power and place, and therefore there is no inclusion--only a pointless battle with people who really don't want to fight. But what must happen, at some point, is that the hostilities must cease, because, if they do not, the liberal becomes an individual who will, if shown enough resistence, show a tooth or a claw simply to find a place of their own.
In the world of cats (who, as we know, are always far more sensible than human beings), the hostilities do end. The baby is bopped on the head or backed away from a favored spot often enough to know where he can and cannot go, and the older cats concede that baby really isn't that bad, and is worthy to share a dish of food or a spot on the humans' bed. They begin to see that they are not going to be left to starve, and that laps are readily available still, and that life can continue to be good--they will still get everything they need, and baby really hasn't caused that much of a disruption. Peace and catnip abounds, and there is freedom and protection and nurture enough for all.
But the fact is that, if an older cat continues in its hostility and destructiveness, it isn't the baby who is considered for ouster--it's the troublemaker who suddenly becomes the problem, and whose place in the household is threatened. Not by the presence of the baby, but by the continued perpetration of their own bad behavior, and their unwillingness to be a peaceful, inclusive and well-behaved member of the household.
Sympathy for the established member of society becomes impatience, and anger, and the desire just to be rid of the hissing and spitting and inappropriate destruction that interferes with everyone.
This, I think, is what the neocons are standing on the tippy toe edge of facing.
Even those of us who are social liberals and don't really care how anyone else believes or lives, look at the hissing, spitting hostility and say, "Hey, maybe this cat never will socialize, and if he pisses on the carpet one more time, he's outta here!"
And even our more conservative brothers and sisters see the inappropriate and destructive responses and might possibly consider the same thing.
Thanks to griffen, for pointing out this most excellent and thought provoking examination.
And thank you to Daisy, Rafiki and Finn, who teach me, most wonderfully, every day.
Which is what we accuse the conservatives of doing, yes?
However, that said, periodically one can and will come across a gem, that, with almost laser-like precision, identifies a problem of communication between the left and the right that is astonishing in both its brilliance and its stupifying simplicity.
This is, in my humble opinion, one of those.
One of the more amusing things about bringing a new kitty into the house is watching them working it out to fit in with the others. And one of the more interesting aspects of these tentative feline negotiations is watching the older, more established kitty members of this household trying to "duke it out" with the new baby, and the new baby's invariable confusion as they try to figure out why.
The baby has just come from a litter, where, while there is no doubt a certain hierarchy, the presence of others is not only a given, but desirable. In a litter, there is always someone to play with, to cuddle with, to socialize with. It is, in essence, a teeny, tiny community, and the advantages to being a part of that community are obvious to every kit in the litter.
The very presence of others is a part of the nurturing environment of those first few weeks.
Weaning commences, and each little one finds itself striking out on its own, and creating its own space in the world. When this space involves being introduced to a new home with other, older cats, the general response of a socially healthy kitten is usually, "YAY! New friends!"
The older cats, who have already established their community, are less enthusiastic.
So what happens is that kitty comes bouncing into the new community with openness, and with the sense of cooperation that he brought from the litter, prepared to be included but, due to their own awareness of their newness and smallness, not really wanting to overthrow the standing order. They are just trying to learn where they fit into that order, just the way they learned where their place was, from the blind and helpless time of their birth, at their mother's teats.
But the older cats do not initially see a new friend. They see a potential usurper--a threat to the established order. And this potential threat must be quashed by any means possible, because the older kitties, for all their size and obvious dominance, are threatened by a six ounce kitten.
This is a critical point. Critical. Because we human observers watch this, baffled that our larger and stronger kitty friends are hissing, spitting, marking, shredding curtains and otherwise acting out against a baby as if we have brought a tiger cub who could eat them in one bite into the house, when the reality is that the baby is really no threat to them at all. The baby, in fact, is not only the most vulnerable creature in the room in the aspect of their physical presence, but also in their emotional demeanor in that they just want to get along.
Baby just wants to be let in, with no idea in his little kitty brains at all that he's going to infiltrate and conquer.
He doesn't even know what that means.
But see, the big guys don't know that. They are far removed from the days of the litter, and have worked, hard, to get to where they are. They have proven themselves. They have made themselves comfortable. They are completely unaware of the fact that this new creature wants to be friends, because they are convinced that they are somehow about to be replaced in the social order of both other cats and humans in the household. They are unaware of the fact that nothing is going to change--that they will still be fed, that they will still get ear skritches and the favored spot on the back of the sofa to sleep. They don't have to fight for any of these things--but they believe they must, because they don't realize that, number one, baby needs to find his own place, and, number two, they are still accepted, cared for and loved--and always will be--because of their own unique and irreplacable part in their own hierarchy.
In this dynamic, there is heartrending compassion to be felt for both sides. Each in their own way, they are suffering--the baby because he must fight, cheerfully, almost continual hostility and rejection, and the others because they are clearly afraid for their own position in the homes and hearts of the people and the other cats with whom they have established a connection, and the space that they have come to believe is home.
This is exactly what goes on between the pluralists and the fundamentalists in this country.
Small-l liberals don't want to take anything away from the fundamentalists. They don't want to overthrow anyone's beliefs or lifestyles or worldviews. But what they do want is to be able to find and establish their own space within society, knowing and believing that there is room for everyone, and that diversity and sociability can be and usually is an advantage. A space that nurtures everyone. But fundamentalists cannot let go the idea that inclusion must always involve a relinquishing of power and place, and therefore there is no inclusion--only a pointless battle with people who really don't want to fight. But what must happen, at some point, is that the hostilities must cease, because, if they do not, the liberal becomes an individual who will, if shown enough resistence, show a tooth or a claw simply to find a place of their own.
In the world of cats (who, as we know, are always far more sensible than human beings), the hostilities do end. The baby is bopped on the head or backed away from a favored spot often enough to know where he can and cannot go, and the older cats concede that baby really isn't that bad, and is worthy to share a dish of food or a spot on the humans' bed. They begin to see that they are not going to be left to starve, and that laps are readily available still, and that life can continue to be good--they will still get everything they need, and baby really hasn't caused that much of a disruption. Peace and catnip abounds, and there is freedom and protection and nurture enough for all.
But the fact is that, if an older cat continues in its hostility and destructiveness, it isn't the baby who is considered for ouster--it's the troublemaker who suddenly becomes the problem, and whose place in the household is threatened. Not by the presence of the baby, but by the continued perpetration of their own bad behavior, and their unwillingness to be a peaceful, inclusive and well-behaved member of the household.
Sympathy for the established member of society becomes impatience, and anger, and the desire just to be rid of the hissing and spitting and inappropriate destruction that interferes with everyone.
This, I think, is what the neocons are standing on the tippy toe edge of facing.
Even those of us who are social liberals and don't really care how anyone else believes or lives, look at the hissing, spitting hostility and say, "Hey, maybe this cat never will socialize, and if he pisses on the carpet one more time, he's outta here!"
And even our more conservative brothers and sisters see the inappropriate and destructive responses and might possibly consider the same thing.
Thanks to griffen, for pointing out this most excellent and thought provoking examination.
And thank you to Daisy, Rafiki and Finn, who teach me, most wonderfully, every day.