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“This is a song… by myself… for people like me… who – oh, this sentence is really starting to take a nice shape – for people like me, who have a strong indwelling evidently permanent urge to damage themselves or cut themselves off prior to some accomplishment or arrival at a place of comfort and happiness. I didn’t succeed in my goal to not bum everyone out, but… In short, this is a song about, uh, about trauma, and surviving it, and it’s called ‘Outer Scorpion Squadron.’” – 2011-03-29 - Bowery Ballroom - New York, NY
I really love that introduction, because when do people say that? It’s so rare that someone does. And how many other songs are there about breaking through your own defense mechanisms (which is what I think the title’s scorpion squadron is) to confront traumatic memories?
As so many Mountain Goats songs do, personifying a feeling or a concept – in this case, said memories – saves it from being preachy or cliched. Memories get personified as “ghosts”, and those same ghosts seem the most likely referent of the “they” in the last line, “Don’t let anybody call them ugly.” Think about that line. Meditate on it good and hard. There is tremendous power in it for me, the rejection of shame and the acceptance of every piece of your life that brought you where you are today, no matter how terrible it might seem to someone who hasn’t lived through it. This song makes me feel like I am part of some family defined by shared experience, that being a survivor is something that can unify me with others rather than – as it so often seems – distance me from them.
I think one of the most under-appreciated and pervasive communication problems is that some people express ideas, beliefs and opinions primarily through literal wording while other people do so through the general intent behind that wording.
Like when you see these arguments where one side is saying “politicians are racist” and the other side’s argument is “not all of them,” one problem there (besides the latter just not wanting to admit or confront an ugly reality) is that many will use a phrase like “the police are racist” to mean “there is an unfortunate trend of racism higher than it ought to be among politicians.”
I’m one of these. I default to loose, generalized statements and also by default I just expect everyone else to be communicating and interpreting communication that way. I assume almost all conversations have a degree of hyperbole and flexible reality behind them.
But no, what other people will hear in that statement is “100% of every politician in America consciously hates all other races, always with no exception.“ And in a similarly black and white fashion, they think the absoluteness of the statement is the crux of the issue and that if they disprove it with even one example, it’s a valid counterargument, even though the first person’s complaint is with the trend they are inferring through those loose and general words.
This is something some people may have neurological, psychological or just cultural issue with. I notice the right wing (and the old “anti social justice” movement) were/are most often very literally minded and word-oriented while moderate to liberal people tend to lean more toward those generalizations as their go-to way of presenting an idea.
This really fucks with a L O T O F P E O P L E pretty much all day every day and barely gets addressed.
I think it’s not that liberals and conservatives are different in their level of literalism, I think that people make general, ideological sweeping statements about ideas that are emotionally important _within their social group_ . The current Republican president isn’t up there because he was super literal and specific. He used big feelings words. “The police are racist” isn’t REALLY going up against “here’s non-racist Fred, and his friend Bob, who’s only racist off work”, it’s going up against “our heroes in blue”. And if someone busts out “our heroes in blue” at you, you’re pretty likely to pull out specifics back and point out instances of corruption and racism that don’t get addressed because people have an ideological belief that Cops Are Good.
We confirm our in-group identity with ideological, emotional statements. We usually argue with other ideologies by referring to counterevidence, because reality exists. Honestly, if we can’t bring some facts in, or define our ideas for people who haven’t already decided to agree with you - well, it’s okay not to debate your point of view. You don’t have to. Especially where it affects your real life and your real life safety! But there’s nothing righter or righteous about expecting other people to read your mind, though, or to already agree with a morally-correct stance that’s new to them? That’s useful for sorting friends by safeness and potential tediousness, for sure, but it’s not communicating new ideas to people who haven’t heard them?
… Is it? Is this another thing I don’t understand about people and feelings? If you say “the police are racist” for long enough, will someone who thinks they’re heroes just start believing you? My general sense is that they might if they realize that that’s the key to getting invited to the right parties, and that tends to really cheese my sandwich b/c I run adjacent to white activist circles that like to talk a lot about how they hate cops and wish they were all dead, and meanwhile feel content to ignore mainline orgs that are working on evidence-based police reform stuff that makes a real difference from town to town, even when those mainline orgs are explicitly from communities of color. But that’s a personal grudge, a big one, and is probably not remotely where OP is coming from.
Yeah, I disagree with the thesis that you can separate this out along political lines that way, and I also think people who *suddenly* become Captain Exact Words exclusively in certain kinds of political discussion, when they don’t otherwise have a problem with generalizations, are toootally playing gotcha rather than trying to have a real dialogue or engage with an idea– but I think the basic split between communication styles as described is a very real one, and I’ve seen it lead to nasty, avoidable fights way too many times.
Personally I tend to fall somewhere in the middle I guess– I’m typically a lot more to the side of generalization, and I almost never get too hung up on exact wording. But sometimes I obsess over nuance, hypothetical counter examples, Exceptions To the Rule, “but what would we do IF, just suppose, IF…” type questions, etc. when it’s not at all useful. And sometimes that’s taken in bad faith, instead of recognized as just…my mind working eccentrically.
Anyway, I don’t think either generalizing/ non-literalness or literalness and being picky about exact words is BAD. They both have advantages and disadvantages. Sometimes, as the former type of person, I don’t realize I’ve said something rude, or tactless, or something that has terrible implications, because I spoke or typed without thinking too hard about the actual words or phrasing I used. Sometimes I’m being too vague or confusing to other people and don’t realize it. Sometimes I choose a word that has just SLIGHTLY wrong connotations– like, often I’ll say something like “annoyed” to mean any kind of anger or frustration, regardless of intensity, leading people to think I’m less upset than I am, or that I’m downplaying others’ emotions (to them, “annoyed” means only a really mild and transient irritation). Other times, I use weird metaphors and forget that most other people don’t think as laterally as I do, and probably won’t see that there’s any connection between thought A and thought 2 unless I try and spell out how I got from one to the other. Or I get exasperated and assume people who can’t tell when I’m joking or using hyperbole are being willfully obtuse instead of actually puzzled and alarmed.
I think it’s a good idea for everyone to be aware of the different ways in which people communicate and understand conversations to work, and also to be aware of their own weak points and the ways in which they can be off-putting or obnoxious to talk to. Like I’ve had some frustrating, hostile discussions turn out friendly and interesting and productive when either I or the other person realized we were bristling at the other person’s affect or communication style or choice of words instead of their actual beliefs or intent or point or whatever and made an effort to change the way we were talking/listening.
This alarm clock rolls off the nightstand and hides under your bed. It seeks shelter among the monsters there, whom you must battle in order to silence its cries.
This alarm clock toasts bread and fries bacon. It bakes muffins and boils bagels. It poaches eggs and roasts sausages. If you don’t get up for the oatmeal and scones it’ll get started on your toes.
This alarm clock requires fine motor control to silence. You must hit a target. It’s a blinking dot on this map. Yes, that line does look like the Euphrates River, well done.
This alarm clock must be stood on to be quieted. Oh yes. Step on it. No slippers, it wants your bare feet pressing your weight into its surface.
This alarm clock shakes to prevent you from finding the off button. It trembles. It wrenches itself out of your hands. It only wants not to be touched.
This alarm clock glows. It is like a tiny sunrise. It hangs from your ceiling, orbited by planets. Sleep. They must have their daylight.
This alarm clock is incredibly loud. You can still hear it having turned it off. It echoes in your ears. You can hear it when you try to fall asleep in the evening. You fail.
This alarm clock donates your money to organizations you hate if you
sleep in. If you wake up early, it will steal from them for you
instead. If you stay up, all night long, unblinking, it will begin to
spin straw into gold.
