Part of Why I Am How I Am and Who I Am.

[vakkotaur]

I'm not LJ cutting this. It's too important.

I'm also amazed I can bring myself to post this publicly.

This has been posted a few times on LJ, but was pointed out on slashdot. It's an article about "Why Nerds are Unpopular". And it's pretty much right on about an artificial society with no redeeming features for those stuck in it. His timeline is about right, too, as things don't start in High School, they start a bit earlier. Things just degenerate from there. Also they don't end in college, at least not right away. It takes time for the worst problems to flunk out or get hit with a stiff dose of reality and start growing up.

One thing he really got right was the misuse of words. "Character" and "integrity" were words that had none of the dictionary meaning. They did mean simple blind unthinking obedience. "Good sportsmanship" was an even bigger joke. Good?! sportsmanship?? That term would be more believable if it was actually practiced by anyone. It wasn't. It was very clear that any team sport was war only without the redeeming feature of ending with any form of a peace at all. This is why I do not like sports or anything to do with the word. "Sports car" is something I don't like. Why? It has that damnable word 'sports' in it. 'Sportcoat' has the same issue. The expansion of SUV is another annoyance. It's car. Or a truck. Or even a van. "Utility vehicle" is fine. I differentiate between sports and fun. Bicycling can be fun. Once it becomes a race or such, it just a sport and no longer fun. Fun is what one does because one enjoys it. Sport is what one does to appear superior at the expense of others, and what effect it has on them be damned.

I think wbwolf once asked why some people hated sports. It's very simple, really. Suppose someone said "sports" to you, and then injured you in some way. But not just once. Say it happened almost every time. And when it did happen, your pain didn't matter, as it was amusing to others. Eventually, you learn that that word means pain. Unjustified pain. Pain that knows no relief because, obviously, you should be enjoying it and must be defective since you don't. That's why. That's why I refuse to watch sporting events. That's why I will vote against anyone who votes to spend tax dollars on stadiums (besides it simply not making any economic sense). It's my stand against torture. Yes, you read that right. I will not be party to the continuation of the legalized torture which sports breeds.

"Discipline" was another word that meant nothing more than "conform, damnit!" Anything with "discipline" was to be avoided as a poison. Self-discipline? Egad, why would I do that to myself?! But the thing is, I did have self-discipline, the real kind, not the fake stuff talked about. One needed it to survive and not go mad. And my interests also required it. Studying takes it. Grinding and polishing a telescope mirror (which I did around age 12 or 13) takes it. My various attempts at self-hypnosis and other relaxation techniques took it. But I refused to call it by that abused name. It was patience. It was persistence. It was self-control. But discipline was a thing of coaches, drill instructors, and other tyrants. I'd have none of that!

"Good natured ribbing" was also something I didn't understand for a long, long time. And I have still have trouble with it. Why? Because it was an excuse to harm. Well, an excuse for others to harm me. I never experienced "good natured" ribbing until.. I dunno when. My late 20s, or early 30s perhaps. People who didn't know me growing up, and some who had, were amazed how poorly I took to such things. Why? Because my only experience was with the bad-natured variety. A pat on the back was an attack, not a compliment, and I reacted predictably -- for an attack. This was not expected, and misread as me being distant, or aggressive. Well, what else could be expected?! And most people who did know me, knew enough not do that sort of thing.

Response were not just to physical attacks, or things that seemed like them. The physical issues were the minor (and fewer) ones. The more common were the far more insidious. The type where there's no physical wound, no bleeding, no scar to show as evidence - so it gets dismissed as nonexistent. This was far worse than a physical blow. I suspect it may have had a curious effect.. which is probably best left out of general public view.

Some will likely say I need to "let things go." Well, when they let go me, I'll let go of them. I have one fear, bigger and nastier than all the others. And that is that by some "treatment" or other, I'll turn into the very thing that causes problems. That is too high a risk. Some say I take things too personally. Well, what can be expected? My experience has been that is exactly how I should, no, must take things. When things finally stop hurting, then maybe I can just let things go. Until that happens, this is me. And I'm not about to apologize for being who I am. It's the best I can manage under the circumstances.

Comments

On the subject of "good-natured ribbing"...

[kinkyturtle.livejournal.com]

To quote C.S. Lewis, from "The Screwtape Letters":

"Cruelty is shameful-—unless the cruel man can represent it as a practical joke. A thousand bawdy, or even blasphemous, jokes do not help towards a man's damnation so much as his discovery that almost anything he wants to do can be done, not only without the disapproval but with the admiration of his fellows, if only it can get itself treated as a Joke. Any suggestion that there might be too much of it can be represented to him as 'Puritanical' or as 'betraying a lack of humour.'"

...

"If prolonged, the habit of Flippancy builds up around a man the finest armour plating against the Enemy that I know, and it is quite free from the dangers inherent in the other sources of laughter. It is a thousand miles away from Joy; it deadens, instead of sharpening, the intellect; and it excites no affection between those who practise it."

(FYI: "The Enemy" is God. Screwtape is a demon writing letters to an apprentice demon, giving advice on how to win a man's soul over for Hell. Religious stuff, yeah, but raises a number of good points, such as the above.)

Re: On the subject of "good-natured ribbing"...

[vakkotaur.livejournal.com]

I purposely tried to avoid that bit as it works both ways. The taunt was my enemy, but the joke also my own armor - or weapon. And it stood at the ready at any and all times. It still does. Anything that comes close to harming me gets hit and hit hard with it - or whatever else I had that I could safely use.

Why hard? Because I have no desire to manage a problem. I want the problem ended. Thwarted. Clobbered. Dealt with so severely that will never be a problem to me again. Sound harsh? It was earned. I learned that nothing less than massive retaliation would do me any good. Trying to "manage" a problem let it exist. And continue to exist. And grow. I didn't realize that was what I was doing until I read the first of Ender's Game (which is an engaging, if predictable, work) where the protagonist deals with a bully by clobbering him beyond what others would see as reasonable. The real result of that exchange, hinted at early, but revealed later showed that his reasoning worked - that problem would never happen to him again. Harsh? Yes. But the troublemaker made his own trouble. I don't fault Ender for giving him exactly what he deserved. I seldom had the nerve or the strength to reply physically, so I applied what I could. Full force. No holding back. Massive retaliation. It did not work perfectly, but it was about the only thing that worked at all. The Slappy & Skippy cartoon about such things is dead on accurate, only it has two fantasies. One is that someone (Slappy) actually know the score, and the other is that Skippy gets to apply the solution that actually works.

Forgive and forget makes no sense. Forget? What, and open myself to further attack? No way. Forgive? You gotta be kidding. Maybe when the reason not to forget goes away. No sense taking chances.

And LJ ate my first reply, which was not nearly as cool and calm as this one. It showed better how much anger I have in reserve. I doubt I'll ever expend all that has been (and is) given me. My fuse lights a bit harder now, and when it does, it burns quiet. There is no warning, but the explosion is - or would be - big as ever.