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Monday, May 3, 2010

At one time (Iím pretty sure about this, although my memory is fading) I thought I was right about everything. Politics, music, movies. There wasnít an area where I didnít think my opinion was Truth Itself, and everybody who disagreed was just dribbling goo down their chins. (And I would never, ever have used a mixed-number construction like the one in that sentence.)

Hereís the thing, though. I wouldnít argue. Whatever points I had to make I kept to myself. I donít like the white noise of clashing opinions bouncing madly off each other, or the hurt feelings a belief-based dispute lays bare for all the world. If I ever believed I could change someoneís mind, maybe I would have tried. I got a little tongue-tied, though, when confronted with passion, however misguided I believed it to be.

Itís different now. Iím different. I still think Iím right, but Iím no longer so sure of it that I dismiss the possibility that it would be wrong to think a different way. Thatís an even better reason not to get into arguments. Anyway, the world is too noisy and disjointed already without adding to the cacophony. Iím happy to listen while everyone else stakes out a claim. Surprisingly often, somebody along the way will express my side, probably better than I would. I like when that happens.




20 April 2010



The funny thing is that I like opinionated people. I admire anyone who can express a rational point of view, whether I agree with it or not, in clear, passionate language. That doesnít mean I want to hear blowhard political bluster, which is pretty much all there is in the media nowadays. But it still leaves music and movies. In the arts, thereís still room for critical judgments that I can understand and appreciate without necessarily embracing.




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