Our Political Lives

POLITICAL POST. I am not going to say that this is my last political post because saying that means I am scooting out of Facebook which I don't intend to. And how am I supposed to not talk about politics? Dissing politics is tantamount to breathing only through my nose, reacting to the world only on these particular side/s and ignoring that one—when that other one is the power and force that allows or disallows me to breathe freely, in the first place?

          How can we not talk about politics when living in itself in a society of governments and laws or interacting in a community of people constitute a political flow or cadence? So we think those people who choose to “live beyond the grid” that we see on TV aren't governed or dictated by a political system just because they are naked and afraid or living without cable TV or maybe they don't pay taxes? (Of course, they do, how they'd supposed to get a gig on TV? Under the table?) Everything is political whether we like it or not.

          Buy a property in an island off the coast of the Outer Banks, you still gotta fill up some form at some government agency, sail that boat all the way to Jamaica from Long Island, there will be coast guards or some kinda chopper hovering to check on you, buy a property out in the woods? You think you're so free you could farm cannabis and not be caught? It's all political, folks! Even here on Social Media. Why are you gloating about censorship and shit? The dot com people had to strike some agreement with the subcommittee on dot coms in the US Congress somehow, sit with the NSA, and well, agree. Political. Political is okay. Actually.

          Political isn't always bad just because you don't get your political margarine because they're all using butter instead. Political butter. You don't want to talk politics, that's okay. Sometimes I get tired and so I play some more Bee Gees. And then I hear their song, “Dear Mr Kissinger,” written in early 70s. Political, right? Maybe Taylor Swift isn't political but wait till they cut lotsa moolah from her earnings because Congress just... Uhh you know. Political.

          Okay, break. I gotta fix my political coffee.

NEGATIVE, POSITIVE. "Negative posts beget negative ones, with the positive posts being more contagious. Positive updates on Facebook can spread happiness as the feelings expressed on the popular social networking site are contagious." So suggests a study by researchers from the University of California, San Diego. The study analysed over a billion anonymised status updates among more than 100 million users of Facebook in the US.
          That isn't really surprising, almost a no-brainer. Bitchslap me, I'll bitchslap you back. Kiss me, I'll kiss you back. An almost deductive human reflex. But in regards social media, I am moved to identify what really are the "positive" updates? I am on my Facebook or in the internet more hours a day than most, I suppose--so I have an idea what the study is inferring. Most of the positive memes and blurbs and posts border on dreamy ruminations of a world and society that humanity envisions, almost like utopia or nirvana, a thesis that we wish to pursue if we could--than actual pro-active, out-there positive pronouncements like community projects and village-level initiatives designed to actually help people. We read a lot of "heal the world" and "Namaste" and "Peace!" but these are mostly Hallmark greeting card-level "positive" vibes that are idealized than practiced. If you say, "What a beautiful morning! I am glad that I am breathing this fresh air!" you'd get the same. Yet when you say, "Oh my God! There's another shooting! What's going on!" or "Your candidate is a liar!" you'd also get the same retort. But the positive yarns although up there suspended on midair get more response and worse those that are negative howls although based on gut-level realities are frowned at and dissed. Because these are negative.

          It is okay to exclaim joy and spew anger in here, or out there. My only issue is how do we merge joy and anger and let them simmer as one and then do something about the real world? Compromise, negotiate, dialogue. The joyful ones need to come down to earth and feel the mud and murk, and then the angry ones have to calm down and explain to the dreamy one the facts and figures why there are mud and murk--and so maybe we can plant some good seeds on that ground and start a new geography of understanding and mutual respect. The positive and negative on Facebook will always be there, that is life. It's just a matter of how both meet up and work things out--in real, breathing world.

POLITICAL writing (or politics) has always been an integral part of my writing, professional life and research. And passion. But I always prefer looking at matters from an analytical/historical vantage view. I sat with major political candidates' think tanks in the past and I've been covering elections for years (Philippines and US) so at least I have some ideas what is a deliberation or discourse that makes sense from sheer sidewalk rabble-rousing. Talking is good. We give it, we take it--then we call it a night.
          These days, due probably to social media's bombast and extravagance, arrogance clobbers sensibility. You win the discussion if you just pissed off a roomful of nonbelievers (in whatever you believe in). Thing is, the "pissing game" isn't that simple juvenile mudslinging or trivial murk-throwing. To some, it's downright serious. Couples file divorce or relationships break up, longtime friendships crumble. 

          I like to read/listen to a good discussion if the person that I am talking with balances the volcanic fire with well-documented facts and some compelling points of agreement, not just the usual "you gotta listen to me, I got an opinion too" protestation. Problem is, most people don't want to listen at all. And if they don't agree with you, they'd consign you to either a rightwing moron or leftwing jerk. No middle grounds, no area for negotiation and compromise. Sad. You're either a lapdog of Glenn Beck or a Maoist zealot.
          Good thing about my family and circle of relatives is--we never really debated political stuff although some of my kin are politicians as well. In the last Philippine election, the family is divided among three or four presidential candidates. Yet there's no fighting or even arguments. The only fight that we exert effort on--are details of next week's dinner menu.
I wish we can just respect people's choice/s and leave it that way if we can't convince each other. It is weird how relationships and friendships are ruined due to this. It's just politics. When smokes have cleared--no one's going to be barred from eating Bojangles whether you are GOP or Dem or a boycotter (who may be eating hummus), anyway. Life says a new President gets elected after a few years, so that doesn't mean we'd approve of the people's choice each time. Otherwise, maybe we'd prefer dictatorship? No, we don't want that at all. So chill and enjoy your beer.

WEIRD thing is people these days don't really talk the way we did. Like barbershop talk, front porch Sunday talk etc. People today talk via cryptic language, internet blurbs replete with triple-meanings. Yet we pick on minute details, we accentuate those little differences (food we eat, language we speak, dress we choose etc) instead of focusing on what we can actually do as a collective community.

          Then we pronounce lofty words like community, one love, unity in diversity, power to the people, universe like we actually breathe them yet when you say, okay let's go do something--we start to segregate each other in cliques.
          I haven't had difficulty in organizing communities coast to coast, culture to culture--as I did compared with these days. It's tough. Bottomline is, our reflex and response as human beings under one universal good are all the same. We just have different families with different skin colors. These days though people are apart not just via race or creed, we are apart with just about anything that we could think of. If I reveal that I love Waffle House pork chop, ah! "No Pasckie, I can't be your friend. You're full of toxicity."