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Dear Blank
When I posted my latest message at mouth organ, about conversational minefields, I was thinking specifically of you, but I didn't want to say anything about it in public. You exemplify my dilemma.
The problem is that your set of cultural metaphors, tastes, and moral standards is so completely different from mine that it would be very difficult to have a conversation with you. The odd thing is, I hate saying that ... because then it sounds like I want a homogenized group of yes-men as friends, and that's certainly not the case. If my friends agreed with me all the time, as I've said in the thread, that'd be damned boring. In fact, I love a really good argument. But there's a limit at the other end of the scale as well.
I would be very leery talking about anything even vaguely sexual with you, because I can't tell what would offend you or shock you or disgust you or (since none of those three is especially likely) just plain bore you to tears. You and I do not have a common sexual vocabulary; we can't have a conversation there because we don't speak the same language - and while I'm usually happy to teach or learn a common language for a given topic, I gather from past evidence that this topic is not your cup of tea.
This is a real problem, because sex enters every aspect of my life. I write it, I write about it, I have a variety of weird tastes and habits, I love talking about it. Frankly, I sometimes believe that sex is the only reliably-interesting topic I have available to me. The rest of my life is pretty tedious. My writing is interesting, I suppose, but I can't talk about my writing more than a little tiny bit because that's egotistical. And I can't talk about gender too much because that gets boring and makes me seem like a freak to some people.
I can't discuss religion with you for different reasons. No, it's not that I question your beliefs - well, maybe in an enquiring scholarly hmm-interesting-discussion kind of way but not "No, you're wrong, you can't believe that." I never say that - my own beliefs are too odd and I'd be shooting myself in the foot.
The cause is elsewhere. Suffice to say that if we spoke about religion, I am scared to death that I would slip and say what's really on my mind and then you'd never speak to me again, because it amounts to a personal attack.
I can't help it if my inner thoughts are sometimes nasty. The problem is that sometimes I doubt my ability to hold my tongue. It's a good thing we're all not telepaths or we'd have all murdered each other by now. Even writing the paragraph above is risky. You might recognize yourself in this entry and send email demanding to know what it was all about. Isn't that funny? People always want to know what other people think of them. Then they find out - and often, I think, they wish they hadn't asked.
Politics and other social issues: It's clear from your words that we disagree on The Right Way To Do Things and The Right Place For Things, partially because of our cultural backgrounds and partially because I'm a crackpot. We wouldn't flame out like we would if we talked religion, but we'd end a lot of our topics with an agreement to disagree: I would think one thing, and you would think another, and there would be no discussing it. Not a very good conversation after that point.
If we had a conversation about music or movies, it might be fun as long as we both agreed not to hold any grudges upon leaving the table, because it would come down to my not understanding how you could possibly like X and you not understanding how I could possibly like Y. The point is, we'd have to stick to some completely innocuous subject. All the Big Topics are too dangerous. And unfortunately we're both too demanding and too intelligent to be satisfied with the innocuous ones.
This is why, I worry, when we do meet face-to-face, we are either both going to clam up completely or have the biggest, nastiest, no-holds-barred argument you ever saw. And I can't say I like either alternative.
On the other hand, I am amazingly pleased to be corresponding with you et cetera. You have literally turned my thought processes upside down a hundred times, made me rethink my premises or shake my head in dismay or giggle uncontrollably. It's just that sometimes what is good with the distancing of words is dangerous in person.
Another friend of mine - one I do know in person - has berated me a number of times for preferring email as my conversational medium. He says I'm a control freak, that I won't talk to people in real-time because I'm scared of the risk. If he means, scared of pissing the other person off or looking like a fool, he's absolutely right.
It's a conundrum, for sure. I am
1. Strongly opinionated;
2. Fond of argument;
3. Deathly afraid of committing an unforgivable offense against someone;
4. Even more deathly afraid of looking foolish in front of someone;
and you can't be all four of those at once.
Anyway, what I guess I'm saying with all this is: I recognize I'm being schizophrenic, but hopefully at least now you can comprehend why.
© Columbine
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