the limits of knowing
But first: Does anyone want the three special EW True Blood covers? I got them free at work and am happy to ship out to someone who'd want all three. It's Anna Paquin with Moyer, Skarsgard and Manganiello in poses like American Gothic.
Okay, so you guys have figured out by now that I'm something of a worrier, and that one of the things I worry about pretty consistently is inadvertently doing something that will upset someone else, or inadvertently doing something that is seen to go against like, the rules of engagement on the internet or what people see as cool or whatever. It is a constant and ongoing worry which flares up on some occasions more than others. And if you follow me on twitter you're probably aware that this week was something of a solar flare.
When this happens I try to do a sanity check-in with my pals. This week I got worried about two separate issues, and in this post I'll just talk about one of them. I'd love to hear what you think. (Unless it's "I don't know why you care so much" which isn't helpful and makes me feel kinda bad. I care, and that isn't going to change and in healthy moments I think it's even a good thing; I just have to manage it.)
This week I saw or had some name confusion on three separate occasions:
I find that twitter, and tumblr to a certain extent, encourages us to post without any kind of context. So someone can tweet about Rachel Nichols and not bother to say who they're talking about (not that there's often room in a tweet). And someone can make a post about Bradley Manning or Clarence Thomas and not clarify what they're talking about, either. (He's the guy who leaked all those defense documents to WikiLeaks, btw; I googled his name and I don't remember ever actually knowing it.)
But how much should we already know what people are talking about? And how much should we always already know the context in which the people we follow are speaking? I know that when my fans-of-Supernatural friends mention Dean, they mean Dean Wincester and not Dean Thomas from HP, but that context has been established by their talking about the show over the past years. I try to give lots of context when I make posts.
I guess: how much of other people's context are we responsible for knowing as, say, reasonably intelligent and connected humans? Does the fact that "Clarence" made me think of Clemons first have more to do with the fact that he was in the hospital that week, or does it say something larger about being generally unknowledgeable and thinking about saxophone players more often than the US Supreme Court? And does that fact mean that we're a civilization on the precipice, etc, etc, as so many people argue?
I would posit that I do not actually have any responsibility to know the names of ESPN reporters, and that not knowing their names does not, in fact, make me an idiot. And maybe that also means that not knowing Bradley Manning's name doesn't make me an idiot either, even though I kinda felt like one in the "don't you follow the current events of the day??!!!" sort of way. (I had a similar feeling when an uncaptioned photo of Julian Assange made the rounds on tumblr; I didn't remember every actually seeing his face before, as I get most of my news from public radio.) While I do know who Clarence Thomas is, maybe a momentary confusion because I had a different Clarence on my mind at the moment doesn't make me an idiot, either. (I do worry, a little, that this all means I'm old. Anyone else experiencing this?)
I'd like to say that it's just a thing, that everyone exists in their own context, but the truth is that we use these kinds of confusions to put people down all the time. Like that sports fan on twitter, we point and laugh; we think, "ha, how can anyone not know who [insert name here] is?" (In fact, one of the things people were saying on that photo of Julian Assange was "only dumb people don't know who this guy is.") We judge and judge and judge again.
It's entirely possible that I just need to stop spending time around people who have a lot of silent (or very much not) disapproval to spare. It's entirely possible that that sports fan tweeter is just kind of a dick. It's entirely possible that if I can correct myself after a momentary lapse that this is okay, that my initial thoughts don't always have to be correct, and that it's okay to not know a name and have to google it. It's entirely possible that knowing everyone's context all the time is an impossible standard, which twitter is setting us up to demand.
So I guess my question is: does this mean I'm an idiot? Does it just mean I'm getting older? Is this one of those "because my head is so full of Potter spells I don't know the names of everyone involved in WikiLeaks" problems? Does it mean that there's just too much to know, and I can only know some of it (sort of a corollary to Linda Holmes's article about how we can never, ever, see/read/hear everything)?
I happily anticipate your thoughts and suggestions!
crossposted from Dreamwidth |
comments | comment at Dreamwidth
Okay, so you guys have figured out by now that I'm something of a worrier, and that one of the things I worry about pretty consistently is inadvertently doing something that will upset someone else, or inadvertently doing something that is seen to go against like, the rules of engagement on the internet or what people see as cool or whatever. It is a constant and ongoing worry which flares up on some occasions more than others. And if you follow me on twitter you're probably aware that this week was something of a solar flare.
When this happens I try to do a sanity check-in with my pals. This week I got worried about two separate issues, and in this post I'll just talk about one of them. I'd love to hear what you think. (Unless it's "I don't know why you care so much" which isn't helpful and makes me feel kinda bad. I care, and that isn't going to change and in healthy moments I think it's even a good thing; I just have to manage it.)
This week I saw or had some name confusion on three separate occasions:
- Last week I was feeling sad about saxophonist Clarence Clemons--this was before he passed, when he was in the hospital after having a stroke and some surgery--and someone I know made a snarky tweet about Clarence Thomas and I thought, hey! because of course I was thinking of the saxophonist and not the conservative and silent US Supreme Court justice.
- Just yesterday I saw an item on the AV Club about Peyton and Eli Manning making some kind of silly "football cops" ad for DirecTV. A few minutes later, someone on tumblr posted that if you believe the rule of law you should agree that Bradley Manning should be executed. And I thought, "wow, is it actually a law to execute a quarterback for not winning the SuperBowl now?"
- Last night "Rachel Nichols" was trending, and there were fans of the actress Rachel Nichols who were wondering why. Turns out the person trending was actually ESPN reporer Rachel Nichols, because I think the NBA draft was on ESPN last night. Someone tweeted, "non-sports fans wonder why actress Rachel Nichols is trending. sports fans think they are idiots."
I find that twitter, and tumblr to a certain extent, encourages us to post without any kind of context. So someone can tweet about Rachel Nichols and not bother to say who they're talking about (not that there's often room in a tweet). And someone can make a post about Bradley Manning or Clarence Thomas and not clarify what they're talking about, either. (He's the guy who leaked all those defense documents to WikiLeaks, btw; I googled his name and I don't remember ever actually knowing it.)
But how much should we already know what people are talking about? And how much should we always already know the context in which the people we follow are speaking? I know that when my fans-of-Supernatural friends mention Dean, they mean Dean Wincester and not Dean Thomas from HP, but that context has been established by their talking about the show over the past years. I try to give lots of context when I make posts.
I guess: how much of other people's context are we responsible for knowing as, say, reasonably intelligent and connected humans? Does the fact that "Clarence" made me think of Clemons first have more to do with the fact that he was in the hospital that week, or does it say something larger about being generally unknowledgeable and thinking about saxophone players more often than the US Supreme Court? And does that fact mean that we're a civilization on the precipice, etc, etc, as so many people argue?
I would posit that I do not actually have any responsibility to know the names of ESPN reporters, and that not knowing their names does not, in fact, make me an idiot. And maybe that also means that not knowing Bradley Manning's name doesn't make me an idiot either, even though I kinda felt like one in the "don't you follow the current events of the day??!!!" sort of way. (I had a similar feeling when an uncaptioned photo of Julian Assange made the rounds on tumblr; I didn't remember every actually seeing his face before, as I get most of my news from public radio.) While I do know who Clarence Thomas is, maybe a momentary confusion because I had a different Clarence on my mind at the moment doesn't make me an idiot, either. (I do worry, a little, that this all means I'm old. Anyone else experiencing this?)
I'd like to say that it's just a thing, that everyone exists in their own context, but the truth is that we use these kinds of confusions to put people down all the time. Like that sports fan on twitter, we point and laugh; we think, "ha, how can anyone not know who [insert name here] is?" (In fact, one of the things people were saying on that photo of Julian Assange was "only dumb people don't know who this guy is.") We judge and judge and judge again.
It's entirely possible that I just need to stop spending time around people who have a lot of silent (or very much not) disapproval to spare. It's entirely possible that that sports fan tweeter is just kind of a dick. It's entirely possible that if I can correct myself after a momentary lapse that this is okay, that my initial thoughts don't always have to be correct, and that it's okay to not know a name and have to google it. It's entirely possible that knowing everyone's context all the time is an impossible standard, which twitter is setting us up to demand.
So I guess my question is: does this mean I'm an idiot? Does it just mean I'm getting older? Is this one of those "because my head is so full of Potter spells I don't know the names of everyone involved in WikiLeaks" problems? Does it mean that there's just too much to know, and I can only know some of it (sort of a corollary to Linda Holmes's article about how we can never, ever, see/read/hear everything)?
I happily anticipate your thoughts and suggestions!
crossposted from Dreamwidth |
comments | comment at Dreamwidth