Verbiage does NOT Equal Tree Limbs or Boulders.

I’ve been thinking a bit recently about reputations.  Partly because of this whole “Jackson vs. Obama” thing, but more because of recent comments leveled at me by various people in the wonderful world of cyberspace.  Namely, I can’t understand why insults are supposed to frighten/phaze me.  Okay, I understand being nervous if the mob is out with the torch and pitchforks, but other than that insults mean diddly squat.  After almost 21 years of practice, I can say with full throated vigor that I am unafraid of being called “strange”, “weird”, or any of a host of other names that people use… even the ever dreaded “meenie-head”.

Example #1… I’m involved in a theological discussion on a message board.  After openly disagreeing with the person purporting a doctrine that even they claim is new, I was told that I was a scoffer creating a jumble of doctrine who didn’t have an honest bone in their body.  When I read those words, I laughed… out loud… at high volume.  At this point in the discussion, I was then ignored by the topic starter.  Not only was I ignored, but it was blared across the screen in bold letters that I had been ignored for the entire board to see.  Next, ask me how much I cared… I dare you.  For some reason, this overly pride-ridden response (I’m assuming) was intended to make me realize just how evil I was for disagreeing with that person’s brilliance, “see the light”, and beg God for mercy.  I’m still not sure how it was supposed to do that, but that seemed to be the intention.

Example #2…  I wrote a blog post…  quite a while ago, now.  What was it about?  It was about the California Supreme Court decision to strike down the state’s gay marriage ban.  I knew it wasn’t going to stay pretty for very long, but even I was surprised when I was linked to directly by three other blogs, and one was criticizing my opinion as “ignorant, bigoted… and heartless”.  Now, to make things even more interesting, this blog has opened up another post (again, linked to my post about the judiciary) that described it as a “strange interaction”… last I checked, it was called a disagreement… even, an argument, if you will.  Now, first I find it funny that this person referred to me as being “mis-informed-yet-well-intentioned… ignorant” and so on, and then confuses my responses with that of a different person involved in the same discussion.  However, the really good bit is that they are harping on one aspect of the post that has absolutely nothing to do with the material that was the point of the post they linked to.

Like we used to say as kids… “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”  The thing that truly makes this comical, is that none of this is any more mature or civilized than when we used to stand in the playground and call each other names… the only thing that’s changed is the age of the participants and the size of their respective vocabularies.

Here’s to the Underdog!

Adam

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~ by xristosdomini on July 14, 2008.

5 Responses to “Verbiage does NOT Equal Tree Limbs or Boulders.”

  1. So you wouldn’t mind if I called you an ignoramous, retard, or muffin-head? That’s good to know… 😉

  2. Hehe… sometimes it is impossible to dispute the truth.

  3. You are niether an ignoramous nor a retard. Muffinhead kinda depends on how you decide to break the fast.

  4. Now come on! I didn’t say he was those things; I just thought it might be ok to call him them. Call him them. What a dumb sentence.

  5. My father says, on occasion, “Call me anything, as long as it’s not late for supper”. I think the intent is to make the same point, but it’s kinda cavalier, and denies a deeper reality.

    What if one actually has a passion for muffins? The moniker “muffinhead” becomes so much more than just an idly tossed jest or malicious purjorative – perhaps a “label” or even an “occupation”. Such a proclamation can become self-revelatory and defining: “Hey, you’re right. I *am* a muffinhead! Pass the jam, ok?”

    It’s not what you get called, it’s the names you embrace.

    — Mr. Pancake-face

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