Lines That Shouldn’t Be Crossed
Originally published at Welcome To The Dollhouse. You can comment here or there.
I opted to write the lighthearted post that I did yesterday because I wasn’t able at the time to write the real post that I needed to get out. I was a bit too busy feeling both disgusted and heartsick. This time it was me who needed to be distracted.
The fact of the matter is that I’m 46 years old. No one would ever call me naïve or innocent. But I am still capable of being stunned by the displays of heartlessness we can express or show to each other as human beings. Actually no, that’s not completely accurate. The day-to-day expressions and demonstrations of hate, prejudice and me-ism that are increasingly common in our society are unpleasant but manageable, like disgusting odors that assault your nose without warning. You screw up your face, shake your head in disgust, but within a short time, your smell receptors accommodate and the stench becomes bearable. This accommodation allows you to move on with your day.
As you age and lose the idealism of your youth, you understand the basic egocentrism that drives so much of our populace. It becomes clear that many, many people believe that the universe does end at the tips of their noses. Yet even when the ego-cocoon is extended a bit further, there is still the divide of us versus them, we-the-good versus all the others. Human nature would have us divide, compete, judge, scorn, feel covetous of, and hate our fellows, rather than uniting for the betterment of all. Yes, I am 46. I do understand it. I don’t like it, but I recognize the veracity of the words.
Even still, I must retain a portion of my naïve or idealistic soul that makes me believe that there is a basic humanity in all of us that can and will come out during extreme circumstances. So much of the response we’ve seen to the Haitian tragedy validates this belief for me. However, when I see some continuing their me-first, narcissistic responses in the face of a tragedy of a magnitude so horrific, I still am able to be stunned to my core. I would think that this type of major disaster could even make Narcissus have some sympathy for the plight of others. I suppose that I am wrong…
Last night as I lay on the floor of my daughter’s room in the dark, hoping only to play a simple game or two of Bejeweled until she fell asleep (since we started using thumbsucking gloves, she’s needed us to be with her until she is asleep), I happened to come upon a Facebook notice that Pop Cap Games, the makers of Bejeweled, was planning to donate 100% of its sales on Saturday (today) to humanitarian efforts in Haiti. I saw that there were about 1500 likes for this announcement and about 190 comments. Instead of just going on to my game of Bejeweled like I should have, I decided to read the comments associated with this announcement. And that’s where the trouble started.
Thankfully the vast majority of the comments were supportive of this action. But right from the beginning of the comment thread were people whose comments essentially said, fuck them, what about me/us? Don’t help them! Help our own people. Why should we help those foreigners? Earthquake? So what? More and more xenophobic Americans chose to spout untruths such as how we always help everyone else in the world but no one helps us. And that after Katrina there was no humanitarian effort for us (hello, we are a rich and powerful First World nation not a Third World island where the majority of people are existing on $2 per day! Moreover, if one of these bozos had even bothered to do his or her homework then he or she would have discovered that 90 countries did offer humanitarian aid to us after Katrina). One true mental midget even went so far as to say that these people (one of my favorite descriptors, you must know) are stupid for living on an island that has so many natural disasters. They should just move somewhere better! (Yes, it is so freaking easy to move somewhere better on $2/day and restrictions on immigration.)
As my two-year-olds’ tossing and turning stilled into a calm sleep, both my muscles and mind were taut and enraged. Who are these people who are so egocentric and full of hate that they need crow their self-serving xenophobia in this public comment thread? Oh I know about free speech and the First Amendment and all that. But there are lines that our morals and our ethics and our very humanity should not let us cross. You think these things. They aren’t human ideas, but they can stay in your head. You decide to go further and speak them to your friends and family. Again, either your inhumanity is shared with other equally inhuman people or you reveal how inhuman you actually are. Maybe you decide to post on your blog or on your Facebook page. I don’t agree with promulgating such hatred but I respect your right to display your inhumanity in your tiny piece of the world.
But here’s the part that goes too far. A company is announcing its humanitarian efforts toward a tragedy the scale of which we have not seen in the United States. And you feel that its comment thread is your personal cesspool in which to share your evil inhumanity and callous disregard for the loss of life that is occurring on that island? And remember, this is not an anonymous troll, or someone hiding behind a nym online. This is Facebook where the vast majority of those posting are posting under their own names and own backgrounds. How dare you? There are lines that those of us who are human beings should know better than to cross.
To my surprise, I found myself having thoughts of vengeance peppered with my rage. This was surprising because I am not a vengeful person. I do not look to revenge and retribution. These acts do not heal wounds, alleviate pain or even the scales. They only keep you stuck like an old album that keeps skipping over the same 5 seconds of the song. There is no place for it in my head…generally.
But lying there in the dark I wanted nothing more than vengeance. Not the classic ass-kicking for assholes kind of vengeance that would be most simple. No, no, no. That would be too facile. What I wanted was to shine the greatest light possible on these roaches…a light that would show everyone in their worlds what inhuman dreck they truly are. I wanted to contact Chris’s (the “fuck them” guy) employer, co-workers, family, clergyperson, grocery store clerks, pizza delivery guys…everyone he interacts with and show them his words. I want neither him nor them to ever forget he said such a thing about thousands of dead human beings. It will be his Scarlett Letter of sorts, but unlike Hester Prynne, his shame will be well deserved. I want these jackasses who sit behind their computer monitors typing unforgivable crap to be held accountable for their words! That is the vengeance I fantasized about, as Zara slept peacefully. Yet I knew that I would not and could not act in such a manner. I am no avenging agent, no nemesis to punish the inhuman, for wouldn’t that only chip away at my own humanity?
I do not know what is happening to us as a people when we can feel nothing, nothing at all, in the face of a tragedy of such enormity. I fear for what we have already lost and for what our children’s world will look like decades from now. Because if we do not even retain a shred of compassion and humaneness for each other as human beings, we are indeed lost as a human race. Chris and his ilk are showing me that there are even more roaches than I had ever imagined. These roaches are choosing, with no hesitation or shame, to cross lines that should never be crossed.
If you treasure your humanity, perhaps you will weep, rage, or feel something with me now.
Thank you for reading.