Yeah, This is Whiny: I’m Jealous of Bloggers that Are Way More Popular Than I Am

I’m weird when it comes to news: when everyone else was getting all riled up over the Amanda Marcotte thing, I avoided it like the plague. I just don’t like that feeling that comes from being subject to perpetual information flow, which is a lack of control – I don’t want my emotions being swayed one way by one story, then another way by another. While we are certainly “rational animals,” we also go to sleep: life might be learning, but a part of life just as key is being still, and not constantly taking things in.

It occurred to me while reading about Pandagon and all these Lefty blogs that are nasty – and I don’t mean every Lefty blog, because I’ve learned a lot from some (i.e. here’s an entry from Majikthise on the DailyKos book which is thoughtful and insightful and interesting) – that while I don’t want celebrity, I hate this anonymity, because in a democracy, to not be heard is as good as being dead.

Some people are being heard just because they’re crude and nasty and awful: because they aim to anger and divide, and entertain those who can only hate, they’re being heard, loud and clear. I think that’s what’s getting to me. It’s bad enough that I’m not going to be read because I’m not some cute girl who’s put tons of pics of herself on MySpace. That I can understand, and I won’t be jealous of that, because if people want that sort of thing – especially in this age where for all this stuff that helps us communicate, a lot of us feel really alone – then let them have it. But if I said it was a mark of a just society that someone can go out there and have a central voice in a Presidential election just because they could spew hate and get a bunch of drooling cretins to applaud – if I sat here and tried to ignore the fact that all of our futures are compromised by the utter thoughtlessness and shamelessness that make Marcotte’s blogging persona effective – well.

Again, I don’t want celebrity. But not being heard isn’t without consequence any more. I may be a speck of dust on this planet, but I live in a nation that says all men are created equal, and professes that people thinking through issues and debating them civilly can maintain a just order in perpetuity. The consequence of feeling drowned out, even in the blogosphere, by voices that are nothing more than shouts, spells doom for anyone that cares about their country. After all, the debate that matters most happens not in the halls of Congress, but among us. What we’re willing to accept and wanting to change is what government reflects. If the voices that shout loudest and most awfully dominate the “conversation,” then by extension, all of us who might disagree with them are being bullied.

I should be honest: if I am going to make good on the full significance of this post, I should do my best to bring as many voices as possible to all of our attention, and work through the opinions they pronounce. The strength of my voice should not lie in feeling tied to what is popular, or estranged from it, but rather in its ability to engage others, and make them feel welcome.