"The hammer clicks in place; the world's gonna pay."
This article should be read: "The Peculiar Madness of Trigger Warnings." The author notes that "At UC Santa Barbara, the student government has formally requested that professors provide trigger warnings on their syllabuses." That's how insane this shit has gotten.
Yesterday, I trying to recall the very first time I saw a trigger warning anywhere. I guessed 2010. But the Urban Dictionary definition dates from 2011. UD is a pretty shitty, silly excuse for a resource, but it is useful in dating the prevalence of given phrases online. Regardless, "trigger warnings" are recent phenomenon. The internet got along pretty goddamn wonderfully for most of its history without trigger warning. The world has done without them for all but the last few moments of human history. This is a recent hysteria.
Yesterday, in a fit of frustration, I wrote on Facebook, The next fucking person I hear whine about their fucking "trigger"...I'm your goddamn trigger, right here.
At the root of my frustration, beyond the whiff of censorship that trigger warnings carry, is the enshrinement of weakness, the refusal of people to face their worst fears and defeat them. Thanks to setsuled, who writes: That reminds me of Akira Kurosawa and his brother in the aftermath of the Kanto earthquake when they were children. They saw corpses everywhere in Tokyo, choking the streets and bridges. Akira remembered his brother saying, "Look carefully now, if you shut your eyes to a frightening sight, you end up being frightened. If you look at everything straight on, there is nothing to be afraid of."
This is how humans have dealt with their deepest fears since before humans were humans. Shit like trigger warnings would short circuit the way our brains learn to cope. Trigger warnings make the weak weaker. Trigger warnings keep the fearful afraid. And they piss me off.
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Yesterday, I wrote 890 words on "The Cats of River Street (1925)," and the day before I wrote a rather impressive 1,338 words on the story. Today, I begin the final scene, the climax, which is being drawn by Vince Locke before I write it. Because he's that amazing. I hope I can write this scene in one day, but it will probably require two.
And now we are August. What a ribsy summer this has been.
Please has a look at the current eBay auctions. Books by me, and I will personalize them to the winning bidders.
Last night, we watched the first two thirds of the newest season of Sherlock and loved it.
Now, Beast, hit play.
I wish I was the Moon,
Aunt Beast
Yesterday, I trying to recall the very first time I saw a trigger warning anywhere. I guessed 2010. But the Urban Dictionary definition dates from 2011. UD is a pretty shitty, silly excuse for a resource, but it is useful in dating the prevalence of given phrases online. Regardless, "trigger warnings" are recent phenomenon. The internet got along pretty goddamn wonderfully for most of its history without trigger warning. The world has done without them for all but the last few moments of human history. This is a recent hysteria.
Yesterday, in a fit of frustration, I wrote on Facebook, The next fucking person I hear whine about their fucking "trigger"...I'm your goddamn trigger, right here.
At the root of my frustration, beyond the whiff of censorship that trigger warnings carry, is the enshrinement of weakness, the refusal of people to face their worst fears and defeat them. Thanks to setsuled, who writes: That reminds me of Akira Kurosawa and his brother in the aftermath of the Kanto earthquake when they were children. They saw corpses everywhere in Tokyo, choking the streets and bridges. Akira remembered his brother saying, "Look carefully now, if you shut your eyes to a frightening sight, you end up being frightened. If you look at everything straight on, there is nothing to be afraid of."
This is how humans have dealt with their deepest fears since before humans were humans. Shit like trigger warnings would short circuit the way our brains learn to cope. Trigger warnings make the weak weaker. Trigger warnings keep the fearful afraid. And they piss me off.
---
Yesterday, I wrote 890 words on "The Cats of River Street (1925)," and the day before I wrote a rather impressive 1,338 words on the story. Today, I begin the final scene, the climax, which is being drawn by Vince Locke before I write it. Because he's that amazing. I hope I can write this scene in one day, but it will probably require two.
And now we are August. What a ribsy summer this has been.
Please has a look at the current eBay auctions. Books by me, and I will personalize them to the winning bidders.
Last night, we watched the first two thirds of the newest season of Sherlock and loved it.
Now, Beast, hit play.
I wish I was the Moon,
Aunt Beast