Wrestling and Mud

My father in law used to tell me to never wrestle with a pig. You both get dirty, but the pig likes it.

A high school friend posted that meme today. So I asked, were they not entitled to find love because he was disabled or because she was fat?

And the friend was horrified that she would “give off that vibe.”  I can understand that sometimes we need someone to come along and explain that meme only works because we think the disabled and the fat are not worth dating. That meme doesn’t work if it’s two “pretty” people kissing.

That’s not the pig. Pointing that out is not the mud or the wrestle. All of that happens after the premise of the humour is pointed out to you.

I’ve been there.My first instinct is not to say “thank you so much for furnishing me an opportunity for personal growth.” I’m probably no different than anyone else. My first instinct is to tell you I didn’t mean it that way. To tell you that there is something wrong with you.  See, you get a choice. When someone walks you through the problem, you have two options. You can listen. You can learn. Or you can argue.

That’s the wrestle. You get a choice. When someone walks you through the humour and says it is offensive, you have two options. You can listen. You can learn. Or you can keep arguing. I don’t wrestle with you. In this case, I pointed out that the meme was offensive. Posting it was the tacit acceptance that fat and disabled people don’t deserve love.

Someone (many someone’s actually) said that I shouldn’t have said anything. That offense is in the eye of the beholder, that you can’t call someone a bigot if you don’t know them.

That’s, well, it’s bullshit. Bigotry is bigotry. Choosing not to see it is not my problem. That’s not my wrestle and not my mud. Staying silent when I see it is my problem. When I stay silent, I get down in the mud with you. I become the pig.

I’ve kept my mouth shut about Trump on this blog. On facebook, for the most part. Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Trump got elected for a whole bunch of reasons. One of them is that we don’t like calling people bigots. We don’t like calling out racism, misogyny. We think it’s “mean” or “rude” or “insulting”. Sometimes we say that pointing out bigotry is arguing with a pig. Watching how the discussion on facebook went, I can see why.

So we stay silent. And when someone says “that’s just your opinion” we don’t stick to our guns. We don’t point out how the humour works and re-emphaszie that if you think that the disabled or the fat shouldn’t be able to find a date if you can’t, then you are a bigot. That’s a statement of fact, not an insult. I’m not wrestling and I’m not debating, I’m pointing out a fact.

I’m only getting muddy when I say nothing.

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3 Responses to Wrestling and Mud

  1. a says:

    My choice in the pig wrestling is to call out people for posting patently false information. A friend (a Canadian friend, no less. Hey, he’s from outside Calgary, so he’s even from Alberta!) posted something about a majority of people electing Trump. That’s false, so I called him on it. He was mad that people are complaining that Trump won and said he didn’t complain about Obama. Well, maybe HE didn’t, but plenty of people did. Also, Americans complain about politics. It’s right up there with baseball and football for national pastimes.

    The problem is that no one wants to hear that they may be wrong. Well, too bad.

  2. Barb says:

    Yes. And the problem too is that many who are bigoted feel they’ve heard it too much and that they’re tired of being “too pc” and Trump validates that. Then a whole host of problems from a political system gridlocked by 2 parties’ struggle over power instead of loyalty to their constituents/country. It’s all awful. Thank you for this post.

  3. Debby Hornburg says:

    Ah. This is what happens when one reads your blog backward. I posted about bigotry on the next post.

    Here’s what tRUMP has done for me personally. It has caused a rift in my family, who I love very much. My son’s MIL is an ardent tRUMP supporter who frequently posted completely and utter lies to back her beliefs.

    I pointed out one such lie with snopes proof and also posted some news of the day in question to make the point that the news story she reported was not true at all. And the backlash. Most painfully, my beloved DIL, the mother of my own grandson who I never got to hold before he died, the daughter in law who I had just become close with during those sad, sad days, was enraged that I would post an argument on her mother’s post.

    It’s a hard time. I cannot stand this presidency. I have marched. I called my representatives to voice my concerns about the awful cabinet choices and the awful executive decisions. I marched. I belong to a local chapter of Indivisible.

    I see this presidency as intolerable and destabilizing to us as a country, to the world as a whole.

    I cannot keep still.

    And it has cost me. My daughter-in-law has hidden my posts. My youngest daughter has done the same. The ironic part is that neither of them disagree with the politics of the situation. They just think that I need to shut up.

    And I cannot.

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