The Status Quo
I had an old friend tell me a few months ago that he was, and this is a direct quote, "tired of having friends who I can't have an argument with."
His point, at least the one that I got at the time (and I'm no great intellectual like he, so I must apologize in advance for my base observations), was that he was he seemed to be intellectually uninterested in people who didn't want to argue with him about their personally held beliefs and thoughts, as they currently existed. People that held to their own status quo, whatever that meant (to him, or to them). Even if it wasn't a popular view, or truthfully, a view that matched the true status quo.
For prime example, and just so I'm not knocked for misquoting: Bears = Open Relationships.
I argued with my old friend that while I certainly know my share of bears in open relationships, I know quite a few who are monogamous. Just like I know many "non-bears" who are equally as likely to be involved in open relationships as closed ones. My argument to my friend at the time, and I still stand by today, is that, with any relationship, (gay, straight, poly, whatever), it ultimately comes down to, essentially three (ok, maybe four) people: the two in the relationship, with their own rules and guidelines of how their relationship works, and the third (or fourth or fifth and so on) who choose to explore sexuality with one or both of the guys in the relationship. And if you don't agree with an open relationship, guess what? You don't have to have sex with either one of them. Period. Anything beyond that, is really, none of your fucking (pun intended) business, any more than you would want anyone peeking behind your closed doors to see what goes on in your bedrooms.
My old friend argued that the third person had to mold to fit the relationship, and that this was unfair to that person. While I would not go so far as to say it was unfair, I could agree that this poses a challenge for the third (or fourth, whatever your personal relationship equation entails...perhaps better term would be "outsider"), but that, in the end, that challenge could simply be rejected, by not taking part. And that was ultimately their (the "outsider's") decision, in choosing to involve themselves in that relationship, to whatever the extent. This went on and on, back and forth and back again, around and around in circles, because there was no arguing with my friend, as his views were frozen in space and time. And frankly, that's fine. I was okay walking away disagreeing with him, because that is my personal opinion and he has his.
However, what I came to realize over the next stretch of time had passed (after this rather heated conversation, where nothing I could say or argue would sway his opinion, which, basically, my thought is if you're going to argue, shouldn't there be some kind of give and take? Otherwise you're just arguing for argument's sake) was that if someone disagreed with him, but didn't (or wouldn't) waste their energy defending that position to him, than that person's opinion essentially meant nothing.
Nothing.
I found it kind of funny at the time, that it seemed to be an intellectual challenge for my friend to argue a point with someone, but more importantly, it seemed to me, to win. As if junior year speech class was still in session, and that we were being graded on our performance. Especially with someone who was so unlikely to change their view. I compared the exchange to daily news talk shows, where conservatives and moderates or liberals will argue both sides of their point of an issue as loudly as possible, in the hopes of being heard. More often than not, both parties walk away feeling like they are still in the right. And regardless of how the viewers at home feel about the issue they've just seen debated, will it change their minds? Maybe, maybe not. Enlighten? Maybe, maybe not. But really, isn't it all just entertainment to watch two virulently opposing sides disagree so vehemently on an issue neither side will budge on? Bingo.
Once I came to that conclusion, I decided that while I don't mind an argument or disagreement over a personally held view at all, be it from friend or foe, I don't need to fight or argue with my true friends to show my intellectual superiority over them, giving me an advantage that could allow me to then look down upon them. And I don't need to argue with my friends to prove that they're any more interesting or worthy than other friends who I don't fight with, fighting just to be contrary, to show how above it all I am, above the so-called status quo. The best friends, I find, are ones that you don't have to argue with, but ones you can level with, agree with at times, and disagree with at others, but those disagreements don't define the relationship, they are merely elements of it.
It wasn't long before this old friend became a so-called friend, one who even went so far as to attack me personally (but was careful to put it oh-so-subtly, not naming names, because that would be actually taking a stand, and yes, I'm doing the same thing here by not naming names, but after listening and taking the abuse, silently long enough, I think I'm fairly justified), over an issue that had absolutely nothing to do with me at all. I won't lie. It hurt me to be attacked, when I had previously considered this person a true friend, someone whose opinions and thoughts I loved, even when they clashed with my own. I would have done a lot for him. In a very short amount of time, I have gone from hurt to anger and back again. This felt (or feels, depending on what moment you catch me) like, pardon the obvious cliche, a knife to the back, a deep, ragged wound that keeps healing and re-opening. The fact that I still care this much about what this person thinks about me and my loved ones only tells me how close I considered him a friend.
But over time, I look back and remember that last argument we had, over the ability to have an argument in the first place. I never thought any less of him for disagreeing with me, but the whole time, he thought nothing of me, because I disagreed with him. I was merely a symptom of his own disappointment and disillusionment with other people, entire communities even, all casually labeled as beneath him, as less than "human beings", with actual feelings and thoughts. I was just another "bear". Therefore, dismissable. To be lumped as one thing. To be categorized or placed in a box. Despite every single difference, every single quirk or contrary, individual, characteristic emotion or thought I've ever had or known (or shared with him), and the same follows every single person who has ever called themselves a bear, or considered themselves part of the bear community, in "present" or "post" tense. It's all a collective to him, our own private knitting circle, who tsk-tsks anyone who dares to disagree. According to him, We Are Borg.
And when I look at it like that, at how short sighted his thinking has become, the astounding number of ways he's found to justify his position, I pity him. I pity his loneliness. I pity the way he has brought this on himself, shutting people out of his life, people that genuinely cared about him, even going so far as to see their caring as "self-serving". I pity the way he looks down upon anyone who associates themselves with bears, whether they're going to a fairly decadent event like Lazy Bear or Southern Decadence and cutting loose, drinking, dancing, and perhaps fooling around with other people, open relationship (or not), or those folks simply going out to a casual movie with the Moviebears, surrounding themselves in a dark theater with friends.
And the kind of person who judges a group for going out and having fun, enjoying their lives? Those are the kinds of "friends" I'd rather not have, the kind that have to be contrary to show how above it all they are. Maybe that's just my status quo.
But what do I know? I'm just an adult acting like a 15-year-old, with my penchant for comic books, video games and dance remixes. What could I possibly know about anything?
His point, at least the one that I got at the time (and I'm no great intellectual like he, so I must apologize in advance for my base observations), was that he was he seemed to be intellectually uninterested in people who didn't want to argue with him about their personally held beliefs and thoughts, as they currently existed. People that held to their own status quo, whatever that meant (to him, or to them). Even if it wasn't a popular view, or truthfully, a view that matched the true status quo.
For prime example, and just so I'm not knocked for misquoting: Bears = Open Relationships.
I argued with my old friend that while I certainly know my share of bears in open relationships, I know quite a few who are monogamous. Just like I know many "non-bears" who are equally as likely to be involved in open relationships as closed ones. My argument to my friend at the time, and I still stand by today, is that, with any relationship, (gay, straight, poly, whatever), it ultimately comes down to, essentially three (ok, maybe four) people: the two in the relationship, with their own rules and guidelines of how their relationship works, and the third (or fourth or fifth and so on) who choose to explore sexuality with one or both of the guys in the relationship. And if you don't agree with an open relationship, guess what? You don't have to have sex with either one of them. Period. Anything beyond that, is really, none of your fucking (pun intended) business, any more than you would want anyone peeking behind your closed doors to see what goes on in your bedrooms.
My old friend argued that the third person had to mold to fit the relationship, and that this was unfair to that person. While I would not go so far as to say it was unfair, I could agree that this poses a challenge for the third (or fourth, whatever your personal relationship equation entails...perhaps better term would be "outsider"), but that, in the end, that challenge could simply be rejected, by not taking part. And that was ultimately their (the "outsider's") decision, in choosing to involve themselves in that relationship, to whatever the extent. This went on and on, back and forth and back again, around and around in circles, because there was no arguing with my friend, as his views were frozen in space and time. And frankly, that's fine. I was okay walking away disagreeing with him, because that is my personal opinion and he has his.
However, what I came to realize over the next stretch of time had passed (after this rather heated conversation, where nothing I could say or argue would sway his opinion, which, basically, my thought is if you're going to argue, shouldn't there be some kind of give and take? Otherwise you're just arguing for argument's sake) was that if someone disagreed with him, but didn't (or wouldn't) waste their energy defending that position to him, than that person's opinion essentially meant nothing.
Nothing.
I found it kind of funny at the time, that it seemed to be an intellectual challenge for my friend to argue a point with someone, but more importantly, it seemed to me, to win. As if junior year speech class was still in session, and that we were being graded on our performance. Especially with someone who was so unlikely to change their view. I compared the exchange to daily news talk shows, where conservatives and moderates or liberals will argue both sides of their point of an issue as loudly as possible, in the hopes of being heard. More often than not, both parties walk away feeling like they are still in the right. And regardless of how the viewers at home feel about the issue they've just seen debated, will it change their minds? Maybe, maybe not. Enlighten? Maybe, maybe not. But really, isn't it all just entertainment to watch two virulently opposing sides disagree so vehemently on an issue neither side will budge on? Bingo.
Once I came to that conclusion, I decided that while I don't mind an argument or disagreement over a personally held view at all, be it from friend or foe, I don't need to fight or argue with my true friends to show my intellectual superiority over them, giving me an advantage that could allow me to then look down upon them. And I don't need to argue with my friends to prove that they're any more interesting or worthy than other friends who I don't fight with, fighting just to be contrary, to show how above it all I am, above the so-called status quo. The best friends, I find, are ones that you don't have to argue with, but ones you can level with, agree with at times, and disagree with at others, but those disagreements don't define the relationship, they are merely elements of it.
It wasn't long before this old friend became a so-called friend, one who even went so far as to attack me personally (but was careful to put it oh-so-subtly, not naming names, because that would be actually taking a stand, and yes, I'm doing the same thing here by not naming names, but after listening and taking the abuse, silently long enough, I think I'm fairly justified), over an issue that had absolutely nothing to do with me at all. I won't lie. It hurt me to be attacked, when I had previously considered this person a true friend, someone whose opinions and thoughts I loved, even when they clashed with my own. I would have done a lot for him. In a very short amount of time, I have gone from hurt to anger and back again. This felt (or feels, depending on what moment you catch me) like, pardon the obvious cliche, a knife to the back, a deep, ragged wound that keeps healing and re-opening. The fact that I still care this much about what this person thinks about me and my loved ones only tells me how close I considered him a friend.
But over time, I look back and remember that last argument we had, over the ability to have an argument in the first place. I never thought any less of him for disagreeing with me, but the whole time, he thought nothing of me, because I disagreed with him. I was merely a symptom of his own disappointment and disillusionment with other people, entire communities even, all casually labeled as beneath him, as less than "human beings", with actual feelings and thoughts. I was just another "bear". Therefore, dismissable. To be lumped as one thing. To be categorized or placed in a box. Despite every single difference, every single quirk or contrary, individual, characteristic emotion or thought I've ever had or known (or shared with him), and the same follows every single person who has ever called themselves a bear, or considered themselves part of the bear community, in "present" or "post" tense. It's all a collective to him, our own private knitting circle, who tsk-tsks anyone who dares to disagree. According to him, We Are Borg.
And when I look at it like that, at how short sighted his thinking has become, the astounding number of ways he's found to justify his position, I pity him. I pity his loneliness. I pity the way he has brought this on himself, shutting people out of his life, people that genuinely cared about him, even going so far as to see their caring as "self-serving". I pity the way he looks down upon anyone who associates themselves with bears, whether they're going to a fairly decadent event like Lazy Bear or Southern Decadence and cutting loose, drinking, dancing, and perhaps fooling around with other people, open relationship (or not), or those folks simply going out to a casual movie with the Moviebears, surrounding themselves in a dark theater with friends.
And the kind of person who judges a group for going out and having fun, enjoying their lives? Those are the kinds of "friends" I'd rather not have, the kind that have to be contrary to show how above it all they are. Maybe that's just my status quo.
But what do I know? I'm just an adult acting like a 15-year-old, with my penchant for comic books, video games and dance remixes. What could I possibly know about anything?