You’ll be amazed at how little we have to say about you …
While I agree with Missy Beatty, who has cried “Uncle”, and that, as far as I’m concerned, the cat fights on Cpunch over the Caitlin Johnstone teapot tempest have gone on far too long due to courtside lefties not wanting to share their seats with the rabble, I flashed on the phrase above as indicative of the que dit-on, the “what will they think?” narcissistic character of much of what passes for information sharing on social media these days.
Maybe because I’ve never used stuff like FB and Twitter (I signed up to FB today in order to congratulate Greg Barrett on his CP piece – and will shortly unsign up – because he’s walled himself off in FB land, but couldn’t figure out how to add a comment, didn’t want to spend the time to know, and, in the end, figured that anyone who spends more time listening to, and try to communicate with barn owls than surfing social media sites probably couldn’t have anything pertinent to say).
Anyone living in the US, or any of its vassal states worldwide, who can’t, or don’t want to believe that the US is a pretty messed up place are going to have to get used to being treated like the idiots they are, and if they don’t like it, tough shit. Trying to defend anything associated with the largest criminal enterprise in history to anyone who has a passing acquaintance with stuff called empathy, solidarity, and all those other compassionate qualities will get you a tirade like Ms Johnstone’s or a shrug of the shoulders from someone like me, unless you’re interested in something more than being worried about how you’re being seen.
Which brings me back to my original point, which was something about the que dit-on syndrome and how all this instantaneous, multi-platform chatter totally turns me off. Which probably won’t make a hill of beans of difference to y’all out there in the virtuo-sphere, and I could care less. Good night and good luck. I’m going to walk up the road and talk with a neighbor. It’a a lovely evening.